Surviving on Marshmallows

The headcount was completed as every camper's name was confirmed.  Thank goodness that none of us were missing.  Business centers were dug out a few feet away from the campground with a reminder to remain in our clothes overnight.  Like dwarves off to work, we hammered the metal stakes into the ground and looped knots over it to post the mini tents.  The day was fighting for the light as Jacky motioned the group into a circle.  Have you ever prepared for a long trip with a  checklist to get everything packed?  Luckily, Jacky had packed extra bags of marshmallows because  one of the girls forgot the chocolate bars (what a bummer) and the bologna sandwiches were not my favorite.  Searching for sticks to strip and rub together to start the campfire took less work as we quickly ignited a smoldering roast. As a trooper, I swallowed down the melted well-done crispy marshmallows from the fire until my stomach sank.  As night became to unfold, two campers were assigned to each tent.  Again, we sprayed the repugnant repellant before going to sleep.  The tunes from a weeping bird and the chirps from the crickets rocked my thoughts to sleep.  I was grateful  for nature's lullaby.  At the crack of dawn (she must of been an egg), I woke up with wet shoes and socks because of the overnight rain.  It was if someone sprinkled some of God's holy water on my feet.