We got a jar of homemade marshmallows for Christmas. They were very yummy and we have been slowly enjoying them with hot cocoa for the past month.
This past Friday, I gave quite a few of them to Sven. He was cranky and I was being a lazy mom; marshmallows worked. He was very happy to plow through a substantial chunk of the jar and subsequently forgot what he was so cranky about.
Apparently, he will never forget the marshmallows. They made quite an impression on him, as the following story will show.
Yesterday, Scott opened the jar to put some on his cocoa. Sven was in the other room but he crawled as fast as he could to the kitchen. He climbed up Scott's leg and began fussing rather pointedly. Marshmallows were exchanged and then Sven was satisfied. It all seemed very deliberate so we hypothesized that Sven could hear the click of the jar opening and had made an indelible connection between that sound and the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.
Scott wanted to test this hypothesis so today he opened the jar while Sven was sitting on my lap, facing away. Sven whipped his head around, eyes fastened on the expected marshmallow jar. He knew what that sound was and he was expecting something wonderful shortly. And his trust was rewarded.
Right before bed tonight, I accidentally hit the baby with a book. He was already overtired so that was really the last straw. He broke into heart-wrenching baby sobs. I tried to nurse him to calm down but just as he was loosing steam, Scott pulled out the marshmallow jar. Click. The baby stopped nursing (and whining) to look expectantly at the amazing jar of fluffy sugar.
Unfortunately, he has now eaten it all.