I go camping every year with a group of friends. I go camping that one and only time because sleeping in a bag, in a tent, on the ground is just not my idea of “vacation.” But I love those friends and can join in on the adventure for a weekend.
One of my responsibilities for the trip is to bring the s’more supplies. I always bring the classic pieces: graham crackers, Hershey’s chocolate, and marshmallows. And then I bring along a bonus item. Like one year it was giant marshmallows (which were better in concept than in action as they were really hard to toast). Another year it was different kinds of chocolate bars (Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups were the favorite). And this year it was some peanut butter and jelly, for folks who wanted to try some extra flavor.
On the second morning, after I’ve eaten some normal breakfast foods, I make up an extra-large s’more. Sitting by the fire, wrapped up in a blanket over fleece pajamas, and getting fingers sticky with sugar and sweet…all is right with the world.
And really, it’s even better because everything that goes into that morning moment is based on my choices as an adult. Childhood is great an all, but I really do like being an adult better. We get to make choices about our lives, and deal with the natural consequences rather than the grounding someone else thinks is right. Which means, if I really wanted to, I could have a s’more every morning for breakfast. Now I would have to be the one to buy the new jeans after a few weeks of that lifestyle, but it would be my choice and my consequence.
There are things that we get to choose in the adulting life. We get to have some control over food, sleep, work, and relationships. Of course there are others who have choice in those decisions too. The grocery store might not have the marshmallows I want. The child down the hallway may be crying from a nightmare. The boss might have a higher priority than you did for the day. And that super cute guy might not be available to watch Star Wars tonight.
It’s not perfect. It’s just, in general, good.
Maybe I’m still high off that s’more from a few weeks back. And my choice to snack on the other half of the Hershey bar while I was making it. I’m still in progress on developing my identity as an adult; we all are. I just feel like I am getting more power over the choices involved in that process as time goes forward. And am better the handle the consequences too.
No, I’m not going have a s’more for breakfast every morning. But I absolutely going to have one (or more) every time I go camping. And I will enjoy every sweet bite while sitting as close to the fire as I can.