Speaking of s’mores, check out this bad boy.
While at the grocery store shopping for some cabin provisions, Ben found marshmallows–I kid you not–the size of BASEBALLS. David insisted on buying them. Best decision ever. We roasted them in the cabin fireplace, then proceeded to make huge sticky messes of our hands and faces. I’m sure if Grandma had been there, she wouldn’t have approved in the slightest.
I, on the other hand, give humongous s’mores an enthusiastic two thumbs up.