We had a family picnic a few weeks ago.
Actually, that’s kind of a generous description.
It was a partial family get-together that involved food, frisbee, and talking.
Five out of eight children — that’s more than half the family.
A kind of weird conglomeration of food that included deli meat (but no bread), watermelon, fresh mozzarella salad, chips, and blueberry pie — I suppose that constitutes a picnic. We were eating at a picnic table.
A huge caterpillar.
Frisbee.
That became layered frisbee.
A walk by the lake.
And lots of sitting around, talking.
The best of life is made up of so many simple moments.
They may not be perfect, but the sum of them is.
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 
I spend far too much time wondering what is perfect. I think if the think is then it is …. perhaps.
It sounds like you had a good time.
So often when I was younger, I waited to do fun things until they could be perfect. Sadly most never happened. The most fun seems to happen when it’s a spontaneously combustion.