Anyway. We had a family night last Friday night. It entailed a yummy dinner, a family walk and s'mores. Yum.
Of course I documented the occasion.
"Marshmallows, Mommy!" This led to an eventual meltdown.
The goodies.
The FIRE.
The nice daddy who saves the little guy from his meltdown.
Or tries to, at least.
My brightly colored girl and I.
Eventually he made the meltdown worse.
It's family time. Who's excited?
I just want my "amema!" (translation: marshmallows)
Hubby marveling at the size of the "perfect size for s'mores!" marshmallows. It turns out they're not perfect for s'mores. But they are perfect for melting all over the place and coating your toddler's body in sticky marshmallow!
MMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. My love handles will thank me for not making this an every Friday evening occasion.
