If there is one thing I love in this world, it is a s'more. I love it so much in fact, that one of my gifts for Christmas was all the fixings for s'mores complete with an extra long skewer so I could roast them in our fireplace without getting roasted myself. The combination of melty chocolate, golden graham cracker, and toasty marshmallow is simply divine.
I subbed today for a particularly rotten class of 3rd graders. When the kids are rotten, I like to come home and eat (I'm sure Rosie, you'll agree). I opened up my cupboards and there was my s'more kit calling out to me. What better way to forget the child who tried to make a break out the front gate while on the way to lunch than with marshmallow oozing down your chin? I decided to make myself one.
I didn't feel the need to light our whole fireplace, so I just grabbed a fork, popped on a mallow and lit up the stove. Within minutes, my marshmallow was ready and I slid it off the fork into its bed of chocolate and graham. Before tossing the fork in the sink, I noticed that a bit of the gooey, marshy middle was still stuck on it. So I put it in my mouth.
I head a sizzle, my lips began to burn and I instantly realized what an idiotic thing I had done; I had wrapped my lips around a burning hot fork. I grabbed ice as quickly as I could, but it was too late. The damage was done. Both my upper and lower lips have four long blisters on them...in the distinct shape of fork prongs. I resemble Courtney Love. Or Bubba Gump. And the worst part about it - I can't finish my s'more.
