Marshmallows
I hate marshmallows. I have tried to overcome it, but I just can't bring myself to eat them. This story reveals how I developed this aversion.
I was walking through the kitchen one afternoon when I was about four years old. On the way to my destination, I noticed the door to the pantry was slightly open; the hook and eye type lock was not latched. I pondered all of the possibilities -- all that FOOD!!
Looking around to see if my mother was nearby, I slowly opened the door. The floor of the pantry, the one easily accessible to me, had large cans of mixed vegetables, a can of Crisco, and dog food. Not exactly what I had been hoping for. The shelf above that, (lucky day, I can still reach it), displayed smaller cans, green beans, peas, corn, beets... again not the food the average four year old is going to cart off to his room with.
My gaze wanders up to the next shelf: crackers, cereal boxes, that weird cheese that doesn't require refrigeration, (gasp!) Is it? it is! a giant bag of jumbo marshmallows! I slide two of the large cans on the floor out enough for me to climb on them, and abscond with the marshmallows. While I am in my room I manage to scarf down about half of the bag. (hey, they were good!) I was happy. I started playing with my toys. Then, the marshmallows began to swell. Suddenly I realized my mistake. I stuffed the half-empty bag under my bed and climbed up onto my matress and laid there. At first, I was afraid I might actually DIE. Then I started to wish I would die.
About a week later (maybe?) my mom was cleaning my room; and she reached under the bed and pulls out... half a bag of jumbo marshmallows. I had completely forgotten about them.
"What is THIS!?", she hissed.
"Marsmallows!", I said, grinning.
"and WHAT are they doing under YOUR bed?" she asked, with that MOM expression on her face.
"I was eatin' 'em!" I said.
I did not get in trouble for sneaking food (at least I don't remember being punished for it).
I still hate marshmallows.
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01 Sept 2002 perotheus.com
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