A couple weeks ago at a TodaysMama meeting, we dreamed up a Lucky Charms challenge: what could we each do with a box of that cereal to have fun for St. Patrick's Day?
Now, this is a real challenge for me because I don't ever intend to eat Lucky Charms. I think I had my first and last bowl in 1987. I'm sure it's a lovely cereal, once you take out all the disgusting colored marshmallows that turn your milk that horrid shade of purple. But since I'm a Team Player, I came home from Costco with one (1) large, two-sleeved box of Lucky Charms. Joe's eyes lit up when I produced the box. "NO," I said firmly, "NO."
"Finally, you've come home with a decent cereal!"
"NO. Not until I make my thing for TodayMama. Don't even think about opening it!"
(Does anyone else feel like they are the Clair Huxtable of their family's food?)
Sure enough, I found a steady leaking of charms from my pantry to the kitchen over the next couple days. Even hiding them wasn't working, I had to come up with my contribution to the challenge and fast. I honestly had no idea what to make out of them. Finally, I figured out that I could turn them into shamrock-shaped marshmallow treats.
The night that I made them I was already running late and running out of light. I had to have something to photograph before sunset. My kids were circling me like vultures. I could see the marshmallow stars in their eyes. The baby was screaming at me, so I shoved a handful of Lucky Charms on her tray. She would eat the marshmallows out of the cereal and then scream at me some more. Joe suggested the family just eat Lucky Charms for dinner. "FINE," I countered, figuring I could eat something else later. I melted the butter; I melted the regular marshmallows. The baby screamed for more. I added a bag of Lucky Charms. I stirred and spread the mix onto the sheet. The baby screamed for more, and then screamed again as her brother Proximo removed his newsboy cap from her head. "That's MY hat," He yelled.
"ME MY," She sobbed back.
"Just give her the hat!"
"But it's MINE!"
"We're sharing, share your hat, OK?"
"SHARE!" She said, for the first time understanding the concept, and then cried for more dried sugar marshmallows.
I took a shamrock cookie cutter and cut out the shapes from the hardened treats, the metal cutting into my palm over and over. "Can I have some?"
"Here," I said to Proximo, handing him a gob of the scraps, which sent him into gales of tears.
"Buuuuut it's noooot a shhaaaaaaaape!"
"It tastes THE SAME."
"Buuuut Iiiiiii wwaaaaaant a SHAAAAAAAPE."
He crawled under the table and cried. The baby screamed.
"DINNER!" I yelled, and threw four bowls on the table. The animals scrambled to their places and poured milk onto their refined flour and sugar meal. I shivered. Disgusting.
"Hey mom," said Proximo, slurping the charms into his mouth, "What's for dessert."
"DESSERT? You're eating SUGAR for dinner! In fact, you better say thanks in your prayer that your mother ever, EVER let you have sugared cereal for dinner." Which is exactly what EG did.
And me? I put everyone to bed, got a veggie burrito from Mountain West Burrito, and met Jenny in the theater to see Silver Linings Playbook.
You can get the details on these Shamrock Marshmallow Treats over on TodaysMama, along with the rest of the Lucky Charms Challenge. Just be warned, they are sugar, wrapped in sugar, with color sugar on top. I did not eat them. You can't make me. "They look like something Buddy the Elf would eat!" exclaimed EG happily.