Slimy Fingers

Usually when I babysit MaryKate and Ashley... hold on - I don't actually babysit two insanely rich and famous blonde sisters. I do, however, babysit two little blonde girls whose real names I will not divulge on this blog. So like I was saying, MaryKate and Ashley are nine and eight years old. They may not be twins, but they are close in age and share many common interests, including a love of sugar.

The other night we had finished up dinner, which happened to consist of a large batch of chocolate chip pancakes. Yes. I know. I AM an awesome babysitter. We usually bake a cake or cookies or something riddled with sugar and covered in chocolate frosting for dessert, but after a ridiculously sweet dinner, no one was really in the mood for hardcore baking. Instead, Ashley decided it would be fun to try dipping marshmallows in melted chocolate because she surmised, "it might be good."

Ashley loves to experiment in the kitchen, but she always questions whether a recipe involving chocolate will taste as good as she imagines. This is a girl who suffocates her hot cocoa with a thick, spongy layer of mini marshmallows. Yeah Ashley, you're going to love the chocolate covered marshmallow recipe you came up with.

We have melted chocolate so many times before, that Ashley set up a double boiling system on the stove before I could even remind her. Together, MaryKate and Ashley melted the chocolate chips to perfection, and carefully dipped mini marshmallows into the gooey chocolate. In an effort to conserve toothpicks, I suggested making chocolate covered marshmallow clusters. I watched as they rolled each individual marshmallow in chocolate, taking infinitely longer than how I'd envisioned. I also watched as their sticky, chocolate covered fingers were sucked clean and covered in a fresh membrane of kid saliva before tending to the next marshmallow.

"We're making these for you!" Ashley exclaimed with an excited high-pitched trill as both sisters peered over at me with a girlish twinkle in their eye. Little did they know how unexcited I was at the idea of popping one of those clusters into my mouth. Unable to confront them about their repulsive kitchen habits, I graciously accepted a small container of the clusters and brought them back to my house. I warned my three roommates about possible contaminants lodged between the cracks of these marshmallow morsels, but offered the container to anyone brave enough to try a marshmallow treat. I set the container out on a communal table in the landing of the second floor. When any of us have yummy snacks to share, we place them on this table. Normally, these treats are gone in a flash. My contribution has been sitting out in the open for a few days, untouched since I first set it down.

Let's be honest, they kind of resemble turd piles