Marshmellow wars

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So I get home after a very long week today and I’m a bit of a smart aleck. My wife asks me something trivial and I can only manage a half ass answer.

“If the package was open already I’d so throw a marshmellow” she says.

I promptly rose from my chair, opened the cupboard, seized the marshmellow bag and tore off the corner over my wife’s protestations.

“All the marshmellows will go BAD” she insisted. “What are you thinking?”

I grabbed my first white bomber and hurled it with great force off my wife’s port side.

“Hey, that stung!” she cried. Encouraged, I grabbed a handful and continued to fire vollies until she finally caught on and began to retaliate.

FWOMP! Swooosh! FWOMP! FWOMP! Swoosh!

Small powdered circles began to appear on our clothing along with shouts to not let the dog eat all of our ammunition.

When all was said and done the marshmellows were one third their original size and strewn all over the house.

Great fun.

 

 

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