If you aren't being asked to leave, it's not time to go yet

Tonight Husband and I descended on friends of ours while they were camping at a local provincial park.  We were there until midnight and I am happy to tell you that my record of staying until being awkwardly asked to leave by a park authority remains unbroken in two provinces.


There are many things about a campfire on the Canada Day Long Weekend, capitols intended, which are sacred.  Booze, obviously, is one of the most important, followed by copious amounts of wood for the fire.  Food one does not normally consume is also important, things like hot dogs, S'mores and Jiffy Pop, which will all be burned to a crisp and consumed anyway due to the previously mentioned booze.  Guitars are a risk but Husband can do anything and so we were serenaded with endless Greenday until we begged him to stop.  


A dog is essential, if it can perform tricks like 'fetch me a beer' or 'pee on the tent.'  Bocci or any other game of skill and dexterity which can be used as a litmus test for the amount of alcohol consumed is a plus, but not required if you already have a pyramid o'beer cans to help you keep that tally.


The most sacred and extra specialist of them all, though, is that magical time of night when everything everyone says is not only hysterically funny but so funny it needs to be shouted into the stillness of the night that no one at the campfire has noticed, due to the booze, food, fire, dog tricks and guitar.  


And on Canada Day, if you are very lucky and very extremely drunk and disorderly, the Park Weenie will appear from the mist like the Great Pumpkin and threaten to ask you to leave again if you don't shut up and leave the first time.