Last week, the RAs of several language houses had the brilliant idea to organize a s’mores mixer.
I was a bit confused because for some reason the vocabulary section in my brain confused the English word “s’mores” with “smerfs”. So I could not quite wrap my head around the whole thing and kept thinking about some kind of blue juice that was to be consumed together. It did not really help that somebody told me that we would all meet in the BBQ area. Was this some kind a dark ritual? Blue juice and fire? Or, would it be my job to greatly break the truth about smerfs to these college kids? Namely that are not r e a l, and may therefore not be barbecued? And what kind of person would want to eat roasted smerf, anyway?
At some point, somebody mentioned marshmallows. At that moment I had decided to stop wondering and just go for it eventually. Or run from it, if worse came to worse. At least I know what marshmallows are, even though I have never really understood what you are supposed to do with them.
But then, Saturday afternoon, it all came to a good end. The s’mores turned out to be delicious and the smerfs were saved. It was a great experience.