Marshmallow Memories

No one notices marshmallows, at least that's what we thought

The bag seems always full

Unless one might get caught

Unlike chewing gum

Their messiness lasts much longer

Sugary, plumply goodness stolen from down under.

Sneaky snacks are so delightful,

the joy is in the stealing,

no kid wants an apple, especially in it's peeling.

Tucked away for baking maybe once a year,

no one knows they're missing,

'til the bag is nearly cleared.

Yikes! Mom's thumbing through recipes, then loudly she proclaims,

"perhaps a Jell-O mould, it's nice to have a change!"

"I'll throw in some marshmallows." our faces turn quite sallow.

Counting out my pennies, a few nickels and a dime,

I shout out, "I want cookies" and check the clock for time.

"What's the hurry kiddo, you look like you've seen a ghost, you barely

drank your milk or finished up your toast?"

Is she really onto me and my sneaky snacks, or am I having what

some might call a full on snack attack?

Do I go to the mini mart and try to buy

Some more (so' more's?), or do I wait for the night to even out the score?

Perhaps I should get it over, dramatically confess?

I watch her close the cookbook, her mind made up I guess.

"I think I'll make banana bread, it's better for our guests."

Now free to ride my bike, and wile away my hours, Sneaky Snacks runs

back as her guilt has super powers. "I ate all the marshmallows!" yet she

doesn't even blink, she's washing dishes at the kitchen sink.

Sneaky Snacks felt so funny when she snuck about at night

to take another 'mallow from that cupboard out of sight.

Creeping on all fours, shushing her dog who barks,

rolling on the carpet with marshmallows after dark.

Her altar has now been shattered, the mischief gone un-noted,

there's no life for sneaky snacks if she isn't even gloating.

What can I do to feel the thrill, to make it all seem daring?

I ate a bag of marshmallows without Mom even caring!