I've been camping twice in my life which is at least one time too many. Honestly, I love the idea but not the reality. Roasting marshmallows around the campfire and gazing up at the stars with your children really means repeatedly wiping sticky hands with baby wipes, managing sugar highs two hours after bedtime, and going to your (blowup) bed smelling like a bonfire. And that's after your children sneak into your tent because they "can't sleep." Hmm. Might have been the 14 marshmallows you . . .