Summer Lily, covered in melted white fluff, named our campsite Camp Marshmallow.
I think it is a good name, although she seems determined to think of a new and improved name, tomorrow.
Right before we left, she told us that "sometimes when a person is just getting used to a new campsite, they need to get up a couple or maybe a few times in the night..." This was shortly after I told her that she needed to stay in bed after my mom tucks her in tonight -- no getting up a kabillion times for no reason. And then she said that Mountain Lion (her stuffed orange cat) is a bit afaid of camping, although she certainly is not. She took him under her arm, and standing what she considers to be the closest safe distance from the fire (ie, about 10 feet) tells him that Grumpy Pa is a very safe fire-builder, and that the fire is all inside that metal circle thing, and the flames just can't get out, so there really isn't anything to worry about. She's not sure it helped make him feel any better, but thinks they'll be OK.
I think they'll be OK, too. : )