Marshmallow People

I went to a small place in town known for strong, creative cocktails, a mini putting ground and playing chess.  I wanted to try what was rumored to be a super tasty fresh raspberry mojito.  So, after a long ((strettcchh)) day, we headed over there.  Yum.  

Upon arrival, the hubby was immediately sucked into a chess game and clearly was not going to be my source of stimulating conversation over cocktails.  I noticed a little boy sitting in a bar stool across the way animatedly chatting with himself.  He was busy constructing something, and being an arts-n-crafts kinda' gal, I went over to investigate.

The bar in front of him was strewn with tidbits of cut up straw, tape, ripped napkin and large, pastel colored marshmallows.  In his hand was a marshmallow stick man in a napkin skirt and straw legs and arms.  When I asked if I could make one, he quickly introduced me to the materials I'd be needing to construct my own marshmallow stick figure.  I decided his marshmallow man seemed lonely and needed a lovely marshmallow girlfriend to share lives pleasures.  Pink marshmallow in hand, I started to build.  

After it was all finished and we discussed a bit what might be missing - we decided that they both needed to look happier, and created a sliver smile for each using small tidbits of straw.

His marshmallow man must have been pleased with my marshmallow lady because his smile was bigger than hers.

He played with the marshmallow couple for a few moments, the lady fluttering in ballerina moves, singing the songs of angels.

Everything was going well until the marshmallow man's eyes started falling off and at that point the little boy decided that it was time to eat him.  Oh well.  

I was done with my drink, which, by the way was soooooooo tasty.   Such the gentleman was this little boy that he asked the bartender to please pass him the bottle of rum so he could fill up my glass and I wouldn't need to leave soon that way.  ;)

Imagination

A few months back, I was sitting on my porch relaxing, watching the world go by when I noticed the little neighbor girl, who is probably about 5.  She was sitting on the windowsill talking animatedly to her playmate, which was her shadow being cast on the adjacent wall.  She chatted on, one hand on her hip, the other waving in the air with emphasis -- lost in her private fantasy.

A few weeks later, I noticed these two little boys playing on the stoop of a beachfront bar. There were a few rocks between them.  Maybe the older brother was teaching the younger one how to play jacks?  How's that for some "Leave It To Beaver" flashback.

It's beautiful to see young minds at play without any outside electronic stimulation.