Joy in the Moment

After dinner, Mary and I dipped the rest of the peppermint marshmallows we had made. I found a tub of dipping chocolate in the fridge that has been there since at least when I moved in six years ago. It still looked alright, so I thought we’d use it up. It’s a little too sweet for my taste, but it dipped better than the dark chocolate stuff we used last time.

I could just feel this vibe coming from Mary as she sat next to me, making sure I had another marshmallow ready to dip—she was having fun. So I said, “I’m having fun! What about you?” and she replied, “Oh, yes, honey! They’re really beautiful!” She’s so cute! She must have made a lot of candy because she’s got a load of dipping chocolate. I remember the Rocky Road, Mounds and chocolate coated nuts she made when I first moved in.

I had covered a cookie tray with waxed paper, but we ran out of space, so I set the tray on the stove-top (they were drying already, so I didn’t think I needed to put them in the fridge) and got a small piece of waxed paper to finish up. When we had done the last marshmallow (the last few were just barely covered and looked pretty bad), I got up to put the utensils in the sink, and Mary mentioned again how beautiful they were. I had a thought, a hunch. I said, “You know, we’ve got a whole nother over here on the stove.” She made some sort of reply which egged my hunch on further, so I brought them round for her to see. “Oh, honey! Where did you get those? They’re even prettier than the others!” She was so tickled with them—and hadn’t a clue that we had just done them together a few minutes earlier! I hope it’s a sign that I’ve grown up in the last year because I didn’t make a point of telling her that we’d done them together and thereby pushing her to admit that she had forgotten. I guess I used to feel like I had to tell her what she’d forgotten. Did I think it would help her remember? Now I just kind of play along.