We have tradition (a crazy one, if you ask me) of riding bikes into town with the kids in tow (14 miles round trip) for breakfast then going to the park to play/recuperate. I opted to drive with two of the littler ones this year. No sore buns for me! I'm proud of the ones who did it, but am having a hard time not feeling bad about opting out.
At the park, we witnessed a strange phenomenon: flying babies. They were everywhere.
After all the playing, the kiddos were pretty wiped out. Benton's sleeping bag comes in it's own backpack which he loves to carry around the house and pretend camp. He was sooo happy to take it real camping. We let him sleep in the raft too. We got some serious best-parents-ever- points for that one. We lost the points when we had to take away the marshmallow skewer that was being flagrantly misused as a magic spelling wand (with flaming marshmallow still attached). Oh well. We had a moment.