what do you have against marzipan??????????????? it is so delicious yum idk what's your problem
it was a decade or so ago. the last day of school before the christmas holidays. the fake christmas tree was up and decorated, crappy 8 year old diy christmas cards were made, and carols were blazing from the cd player, skipping occasionally from the wounds of countless past christmases spent in a primary school; spirits were high. various other crafts were available on different tables; colour in reindeers, christmas word searches, letters to santa, and of course the mandatory dvd playing in the assembly room. however, I had my eye on something more⌠calorific. i approached the table hesitantly; my friends were watching the movie, high school musical I seem to remember, and so my mission was to be done alone. there were only a few others at the table, despite being surrounded by the year 6 class just half an hour earlier - they always got first choice, being the eldest. i sat down on the plastic, stackable, child sized chairs, soaking in what lay before me. i was finally at the fondant snowman modelling table, and there was one lump of fondant left. the methodology to building the perfect snowman was simple, however the teachers still made a point of having a set of instructions out. i glanced at the laminated directive, scoffing at its simplicity compared to my unrivalled finesse of the art, but suddenly, i became aware of the bold comic sans text situated atop the page.Â
how could i have been so foolish! i swiftly rose from my seat and bee lined it to the supposedly haunted toilets, washed my hands as best i could (as there was rarely any soap in the wall pumps), and left, vigorously shaking my hands in attempt to dry them. by now i could almost taste the artificial sweeteners and tooth decay. however, as i approached the table, i could see that my chair was no longer empty, and a further observation revealed that my precious lump of fondant, my beacon of hope, had also been hijacked, and in its place? a contorted and crumbling figure in the unwashed hands of my nemesis; katie, whose motive was to bite anything that moved, including me. i wanted to grab the fondant away from her, but the damage was already done. what was once a pristine, white ball of wonder, was now a flattened, and slightly hairy slab of broken dreams.Â
the tables had turned; i now wanted to bite HER. but it wasnât to be... i stood there, lost and forlorn, wondering if i had done something wrong to deserve this, and whether my fate was to find coal in my stocking. but i was a good girl. the goodest girl. mrs walker stood parallel to me, her arms extended as to offer me something.Â
mrs walker, staying true to her name, walked away after handing me the small carrier bag containing what i thought would be an adequate substitute for fondant. how wrong i was... i seated myself as far away from the snotty nosed vampire of a girl as i could, and began sculpting the dough-like substance they called âmarzipanâ, into art.
it was not until home time that i had my very first taste. after wrapping my snowman in foil, i went to stand outside. it was cold, so everyone who lived nearby had already walked home, but i had to wait for my lift. i was finally alone with my creation. being the child i was, i grew impatient after a few minutes, and decided it was time. the thought of destroying the masterpiece that was my marzipan snowman caused me to hesitate, but the promise of yum yums urged me to unwrap the confectionery sculpture, and take a bite...
but it was super gross so i spat it out and gave it to my mum
