I’ve got three boys and they love anything dangerous, lethal, explosive, dirty, stinky, slimy, noisy or sweet. My boys have been asking for marshmallow shooting weapons since day one. It was the first thing they requested when they were thrust from my womb.
That and some warm milk.
Wait a minute.
Where was I going with this?
Oh, yes, the bow and mallow.
So I’ve been denying them the marshmallow loaded weaponry for fear that I would be picking bits of marshmallow out of my carpet for the next 18 years. And then I thought of my carpet, well rug, actually. It was a big splurge from Pottery Barn and a surprise welcome home gift for my husband when he got back from his elk hunting trip. I thought it would really make the elk mount shine.
How could I knowingly expose my rug to multicolored marshmallow abuse? I could just see the marshmallows being smashed into every last fiber of my beautifully patterned rug.
And then I realized that very thing just happened a few days ago. Come to think of it, my rug has already been abused by all of the other dirty, stinky, slimy, messy, sticky things that my children have managed to acquire over the last few years. And although it does a respectable job of hiding its flaws, I realized it was beginning to look a bit worn down, a little less plush.
I need a new rug.
That’s when I remembered the request that each of my infant sons had made in the delivery room.
So when I happened upon this beauty at the local feed store, I decided to pick it up. After all, my rug was on its last thread. Perhaps the damage from this new toy would be just the excuse I needed to get a replacer.
Initially, when my son opened the gift, he was ecstatic.
I didn’t think about marshmallows in the hair.
Once I assured him it was just a picture and nothing to be concerned about, he decided to give it a shot. And he absolutely LOVED it. So did his 4 & 6 year old brothers, both able to fire it with ease and satisfaction. And the ammo I was worried about, barely had time to hit the ground before one of them scarfed it down. In fact they quit aiming at each other’s head and started aiming directly for the mouth.
And when I went to point this out to my husband, I noticed that my 8-year-old was no longer the archer. My husband had taken over, lined up the boys and was shooting marshmallows into each of their mouths.
At the end of the day, there wasn’t a speck of stickiness on my rug. My boys have consumed all of the ammunition and are now begging me to buy more. I wonder if the feed store has any Moon Sand….
*Please be advised that I do not have any affiliation with the makers of the Bow and Mallow. They have no clue who I am or that their product unexpectedly foiled my plans to ultimately acquire a new living room rug.*