Rio is a pyromaniac of the first degree. Camping means only one thing to him: campfire! I spent the entire weekend monitoring his activity around the fire. I’m resigned to the fact that keeping him away from the fire is impossible. That would require a strait jacket and a leash, so the only alternative is constant vigilance. There was a brief respite in the course of the evening when, to my relief, he ran off to play with the other kids in the campground. I was able to relax for a few minutes around the communal campfire and listen to the band. My reverie was soon shattered by the sight of Rio chasing a child on a bicycle and waving a big stick engulfed in flames. Mothering a pyromaniac kid ain’t easy, I’ll have you know.