“Claire, stop sniffing the wall. It doesn’t have any flavor left,” Jenny tells me.
Stupid wall. It runs out of flavor too fast.
I step away from the wall and look up at the ceiling. There are marshmallows on my ceiling.
Marshmallows is a funny word.
“Mmmmmmaaaaaarrrrrssssshhhhhhmmmmaaaalllloooowwwwsssss. Who invented that word? It’s a great word. I wonder if they used to be called something else. Like shmashmoos. But people couldn’t say shmashmoos and babies were crying because they really wanted shmashmoos but couldn’t say the word and their mothers kept giving them cookies when all they really wanted were shmashmoos. Babies were crying, parents were crying, the streets were filled with people who just wanted shmashmoos. Total anarchy, dudes. I bet that was the real reason for World War II. It’s one big shmashmoo conspiracy the government doesn’t want us to know about.”
“Claire, you are so smart,” Jenny tells me seriously.
“I know, right?”
I should light a fire and make S’mores.
“Quick, someone get me a lighter, STAT!” I yell.
Drew jumps down off of the counter and with one hand, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and started fiddling with the buttons while he holds his chocolate hand out from his body.
“Are you calling the cops? Oh shit! JENNY RUN! IT’S THE FUZZ!” I yell as I run in circles around the kitchen island.
Somewhere in the distance I hear Jenny crying. At least I think it' Jenny crying. It might have been me.
Am I crying? My face does feel kind of weird and wet. Like a wet fish.
“Give me that fiiiiiish. Give me that Filet-a-Fish fiiiiish, ooooh!”
I wish McDonald’s delivered. I want some ketchup.
Drew steps into my path and I slam into him. He shoves his phone in my hand and smiles. “You’re welcome. Now get in that kitchen and make me some S’mores, beotch!”
I clutch the phone to my chest and look up to thank him. But he isn’t up anymore, he's down. Down, down, down like a tiny little dwarf. I squint and bend down so I can see him better. He's jumping up and down, and I’m pretty sure he's trying to bite my ankles. He's like a little chocolate covered munchkin from the Land of Oz and he's angry.
Why are munchkins so angry all the time? They’re in a club called the Lollipop Guild. The mother fucking Lollipop Guild! All lollipops all the time. Munchkins are ungrateful little bastards. Those lollipops died so you could be happy. RESPECT THE LOLLIPOP!
“What in the mother fucking of all fucks happened here?” Carter asks as he steps into the kitchen of the shop.
“Oh shit, the jig is up! HIDE THE COOKIES!” Drew yells as he belly flopped onto the floor and army crawls away as fast as he could.
15. Just Say No to Necrophilia
When my foreman had told me I could take the night off, I didn’t even take a breath or say a word to anyone. My work bag is slung over my shoulder and I'm racing through the plant before the guy even finishes his sentence. Being two people short, with Jim still on his honeymoon and Drew taking a vacation day, it's a rare thing to still have enough people to send someone home. There is no way I'm going to give anyone a chance to change their minds. All I can think about is going to see Claire.
Too many thoughts have been running through my head all week and I just want to put my arms around her and get some reassurance that everything is okay between us. She’s been saying some really strange things ever since Liz and Jim’s wedding, and I can’t stop thinking about them.
Does she really think marriage is stupid? Maybe her idea of happiness isn’t settling down with someone for the rest of her life. It’s not like her parents have given her any kind of good examples of finding the one you're meant to be with and spending forever loving them. They change spouses more than Drew changes his underwear. But I see her get misty eyed more than once while watching a wedding or a proposal on television when she thinks I'm not looking so I don’t think she's completely opposed to the concept.