“I’ll open the marshmallows, you go and collect twigs to stick ’em on.” She stared. He stared back at her with a stressfully serious expression for two long seconds before he cracked, those catlike eyes creasing at the corners as he threw back his head and laughed. “Oh my God, Chloe. Relax. Look, I bought skewers.”
That’s literally the best part. I think the fear that you are directly eating dirt and may get some kind of disease is the real exciting part about roasting marshmallows with sticks you find in the woods. Also you can to sharpen them with knifes which creates another fear that you will stab yourself.
