Night one: the kids' eyes popped out of their heads when they saw their first Aussie campfire. We promptly threw said balls on sticks and roasted them.
My beautiful bestie from high school days, Lou. And her littlest Jo. And I. And marshmallows. All sans-makeup. Ah, I loves me the country!
The Cay-man learned to ride a motorbike, then proceeded to celebrate this landmark occasion by doing a 3-minute dance.
Hot diggedy dawg.
On the back of the ute. Where all children belong.
Our Aussie ingredients for smores. Canadians/Americans: please don't judge me. We don't have Graham crackers here. 😉
So apparently campfires are the new sugar.
The Marshmallow Queen
The Marshmallow Queen Mother
The Little Marshmallow Prince (who quite possibly needs a bath)
We owe more than a passing nod to Take That and The Doors.
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