Mama Kat Prompt: Burnt Marshmellows

     The Mama Kat's Writing Prompt of choice this week is #5: Share a story about a sibling.

     My growing up years were full of magic and adventure. I remember so much laughter and romping  through sun-dappled woods down to the gurgling creek flowing through the valley below our house, the dog running ahead of us, her tail like a flag in the breeze. My two younger sisters and I could skip agiley over the rocks we placed in the stream for crossing, like little mountain goats, our feet never touching water. There was always adventure to had, flowers to be found, creepy-crawlies to be discovered and I remember our Barbie and Ken dolls enjoyed many a luxurious, stone-lined spa in that stream.
      However, the particular sibling story I want to tell happened not by the steam, but near the house out in my Mother's garden. Now we're talking a huge garden, two of them, in fact, arranged one above the other in steppe fashion with a long strawberry bed running between. It was fall and our Dad had raked the dead garden debris into a pile and was burning it. Perfect for roasting marshmallows. Now the thing about marshmallows on a stick over fire is they tend to flame up rather easily. I know we each yearned to emulate our Mother's marshmallow cooking technique, which we'd seen many times. Hers never caught fire, but rather came out toasted a perfect light brown all around. Of course, such a technique requires a level of patience kids don't necessarily have. Ours generally caught fire.
      On this particular day, just myself and my two younger sisters, Janie and Patty, were roasting marshmallows over this garden fire. I think I was trying to do the "light-brown roast" to mine, since I didn't particularly like a charred marshmallow, but Janie and Patty both set theirs on fire. Janie's came out especially charred, despite trying to blow the flames out quickly. It was thoroughly blackened. Patty and I looked at it, then at her.
      Well, Janie boldly said, "I love burnt marshmallows," and popped it right in her in her mouth.
      The thing was, I could hear the burnt grit of that marshmallow loudly crunching and grinding in her teeth as she chewed. Patty could, too, and this sent both of us into convulsions. I mean, bent over double, tears-coming-to-our-eyes laughing, listening to her grind away on that marshmallow. It was hilarious and one of my favorite funny sibling moments.