The Story of the Missing Marshmallows

26 Sep

In case you don’t know this about me, I’m kind of addicted to those super-sized marshmallows that you can buy at some grocery stores. Instead of being normal sized marshmallows of an inch or so, these fatties are so big that it’s like they ate a family of normal sized marshmallows and then sat on the couch with their hand down their pants wondering what they did to get so fat.

Even though my husband pretty much thinks everything in the pantry and refrigerator is fair game, he doesn’t eat my marshmallows. I’m not entirely sure if it’s because he doesn’t like them or if he’s scared of me (this, my friends, is known as foreshadowing…). Either way, I have come to depend on my bag of marshmallows being there for me, much like a sugary friend to give my mouth a hug when I’ve had a bad day.

There was about 15 minutes of down-time between setting up the event and actually participating in the event. I obviously used that time wisely.

On Saturday, I had a work event where I had to be awake at 5:30 in the morning. Not only did I have to wake up early on a weekend and somehow be functioning, I had to wear a suit. These two things make Joules a grumpy girl. But I did it because I’m a team player. Well, that and I really like getting a paycheck every two weeks. Seven hours after leaving for work, I return to the house to find Jack asleep for his afternoon nap and Travis half-asleep on the couch watching Top Gear.

I change into my comfy clothes and run around the house doing those random clean up chores that mommies know about but daddies somehow can ignore. You know – bed making, laundry doing, dish washing – the fun stuff in life.

I finish with my little scoot through the house and go over to the pantry so that I can indulge in one super-sized marshmallow of deliciousness. My mouth was watering at the anticipation of yumminess and the surefire sugar-high that would keep me going for a little while longer.

However, when I open the pantry there is no bag of marshmallows sitting on their trusty shelf, waiting for me to devour one (or maybe two if I’m a bad, bad girl).

What the hell?!

I SWEAR that there was a half full bag of marshmallows in the pantry the last time I checked. Granted, it had been a few days, but I’m the ONLY one who eats them and there is no way that anyone (even me) could eat that many marshmallows in three days without having the case of the pukey’s.

I did what anyone would do – I ripped that pantry apart. And there were no marshmallows to be found. So, like the fully grown woman that I am, I went into the living room where my husband had fallen asleep on the couch and gave him a little shove. It was just a LITTLE shove people… I just had to ask him a very important question.

He half opened his eyes and kind of grunted at me. I so nicely (and not like a junkie at ALL) asked him if he ate my marshmallows. He rolled his eyes (as well as you can roll eyes when they’re not all the way open), said no, and immediately fell back asleep.

I believed him, because he’s kind of a bad liar (which I love about him). So I did the next best thing that would obviously help me find my marshmallows. I ripped the entire kitchen apart. Now, I have no idea why I thought I might have accidently put the marshmallows in a random cabinet or even the refrigerator, all I knew was that there was half a bag of mega-marshmallows somewhere calling my name!

Apparently I wasn’t very quiet as I went through every single cabinet in the kitchen trying to find my lovelies. There may have been some door slamming and cursing going on. In my defense, I was very, very tired from work that morning and just wanted a damn marshmallow so that I could curl up on the couch with my buddy, Tivo.

Anyways, my not-so-quiet search of the kitchen woke up Travis who wandered into the kitchen and stared at me as if I were a crazy-person. No idea why, I was totally keeping myself under control. I WAS! Well, I KIND OF was… until I noticed a sheepish look on his face…

Sleepy Husband: Um… did you say your marshmallows were missing?

Joules: Yes. I’ve looked EVERYWHERE and I KNOW that there was a half bag left with a really good Pampered Chef bag clip on them!

SH: Oh. Um. Well, I think I might know what happened to them.

J: {stares at sweet husband with an expectant but kind of scared look on my face}

SH: So…the other day when I was taking out recycling it’s POSSIBLE that your marshmallows MIGHT have accidently fell in the recycling bin.

J: {The look has now turned into something like wide-eyed horror}

SH: Yeah, I MIGHT have kind of noticed that they fell into the bin, but kind of forgot about it and continued taking out the recycling.

J: {tears forming in eyes as I realize that I’m not getting a marshmallow today} You RECYCLED my marshmallows!?

SH: Yeah. It is POSSIBLE that I MIGHT have done that…

At this point in the story there was definitely some pouting going on (Hint: it wasn’t NOT me that was pouting). There might also have been some overdramatic wailing of, “YOU RECYCLED MY MARSHMALLOWS! How COULD YOU?!”

I got over it though. I mean, it took a few hours. But still, I lived through it because I’m totally a survivor.

I am pretty curious to know if the recycling guys noticed that we provided them with a half bag of marshmallows. If they did notice, I’m thinking a thank you card is in order. Or a half batch of rice krispie treats made with my half bag of marshmallows.

It’s been four days since the Marshmallow Recycling Debacle and I’ve decided that every recycling day I will explicitly tell my husband NOT to recycle the marshmallows. You know, just to be sure. Because that won’t be annoying AT ALL.

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6 Responses to “The Story of the Missing Marshmallows”

  1. wordsforworms September 26, 2012 at 2:41 pm #

    “You recycled my marshmallows?!” Loves it!

  2. Steph Deck (@MamaMarmalade) September 26, 2012 at 4:32 pm #

    You’re a better woman than me. Your marshmallows are my white chocolate. I’d have sent him out straight away to buy more. And I doubt I’d have been able to let it go, for a week. Or maybe two.

  3. Patti October 3, 2012 at 9:57 am #

    Haha. I totally would’ve sent my husband to get more, too. Or I would continue to bring it up for the next six years. Like how I throw the word “Tostitos” into conversations and he instantly starts being really nice to me. Grovelling can be fun! When you’re on the receiving end 🙂

  4. Arielle February 18, 2013 at 12:41 pm #

    I feel the same way about hershey choc covered marshmallows. Secret stash and all. Problem is, you can only get them on holidays…vd heart shaped marshmallows, easter egg shaped marshmallows. My husband just asked me why my last trip to stop and shop cost $20 when all i got was a cucumber, a pepper and a head of lettuce for a salad. But it wasn’t MY fault the marshmallow eggs were buy 2 get one free 🙂

  5. PinotNinja March 25, 2013 at 2:21 pm #

    I love this! So much! Please tell me that you have placed a prominent sign on the recycle bin that has a big, delicious marshmallow on it with the red circle and slash no symbol over it.

    • JoulesDellinger March 25, 2013 at 8:14 pm #

      That is a fantastic idea!!

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