The idea that making smores is ingrained in human DNA makes Justin laugh. It's brief but genuine, and he spares a glance in his direction as he twirls the skewer in his hand, but then he goes right back to keeping his attention on the fire.

"Evan Miller. Family friend, I was in third grade. Took me and his two boys—Shawn was my age and in my class, Rob was about two years older—and a few other kids out for the weekend. My dad would have gone, but he had gotten a really nasty cold and didn't want to get anyone sick. He also didn't want me to miss going, so I just went with them. We had, we had tents much bigger than ours." He shrugs one shoulder in the direction of their two person tent as he lifts his not-so-white marshmallow out. "There weren't any wet wipes on that one. We just had...well, we were at a camping place, not out in the wild, so we could just walk down to the bathrooms and take a shower—which we needed to about three hours into the night. We left a little early that Sunday. I don't remember why, but as soon as everyone got in and we were leaving, it just poured down rain. No one knew the forecast, so it was...it was fortuitous for everyone involved.

"Then I went home and took a really long shower because...because no one had actually taken a shower for nearly three days and ew."