As I write this, I can look out the kitchen window and see the glow of a flashlight inside a tent. It's story time in the backyard. The night began with a dinner of roasted hot dogs, smart puffs and toasted marshmallows. And it ended when Cash refused a third marshmallow, announcing at 8 p.m. that he was ready to "get some sleep." (FYI, he might be sleeping in a tent for the foreseeable future.) Now I'm wrapping up my post and it's lights out in the backyard. I think they just might make it through the night out there. Goodnight boys...sleep tight.
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