That's Just the Way They Roll

Umpteen months ago, Dean reserved a campsite at Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. August, we figured, was a pretty safe bet as far as the weather. We would swim and play at the beach during the day, then have a roaring campfire under crystal-clear skies at night.

The reality? The weather forecast was for rain, rain, and more rain. Plus cold temperatures. Not exactly the makings of an idyllic beach camping trip.

Against our better judgment, we packed all the camping gear in the car, strapped the kids in their car seats, and headed off to Indiana. We figured we'd hang out at the beach for a while and--if camping conditions seemed less than ideal--we'd just head back home again.

We got stuck in traffic. Lots of it. And the kids didn't nap like we had expected. When we finally got to the beach, it was rainy and cold. And rainy.

But you know what? The kids didn't care. They rolled around in the wet sand. They ate soggy, sand-covered snacks. They waded into the water even though the air temperature was barely 70 degrees.

After spending an hour or so at the beach, we headed to the campground to make a fire for dinner. At this point, it started absolutely pouring. We had put up a screened enclosure over the picnic table, so it was relatively dry under there. But Tommy and Ella preferred the pouring rain. They played in the sand hill by our campsite and got absolutely filthy, soggy, and sandy. They had a blast.

That's just the way they roll. I think there's a lesson in there somewhere.

These little blondies almost look related, don't they?