’72? I must have been around 4, 4 or 5. Still toddlerish, for sure. I was taken one day to this seemingly strange place – it felt a bit like a clinic of some sort…big and weird, anyway. I guess at that tender age, I didn’t yet have any meaningful reference points…playgroup, nope. It just seemed unfamiliar, bit kinda cold…

I think one of the men, maybe more, had a beard. A beard and some sort of overall, bit like a house painter or a technician. Look, what I really remember very clearly – lucidly even – was the marshmallow bit. I’ll come back to that in a sec….

“So, Keith…we seem to be getting closer. We’re back at Stanford, by the sounds of it….”

Back at…at Stanford, yes. Hhhhhh…look, I can’t escape it. Ever. I mean 40 friggin’ years haunted by a friggin’ marshmallow. Come on…!

Keith, I can hear your rage…maybe more exposure therapy, you know, systematic desensitization…??

I know, I know. Look, Stella, I really know that everything you’re doing is for the best. For me…It’s just…it’s just that it’s been all over the news again. The big FOUR O…

Keith, I’m aware of that. The Gladwell book, Z’s recent appearances…

I mean…part of me feels that I was almost kinda “arrested” at Stanford. Almost like part of my development was cryogenically frozen. Heck…why? I just wanta…to know WHY?

Look, the original Mischel study, of which you were a part…

…reluctantly, in retrospect. Errr, a toddler. Please remember Stella, a TODDLER. Fourish, no consent. Well, only that handed over by “them”…

Them? Oh yes, them. And how are “them”?

Stop trying to derail me here. I’m not here to discuss “them”…

My intention was not to derail or diminish your experience, Keith. Please…maybe we can explore the marshmallow?

Ok, ok, ok. I’d like to do that. The marshmallow. I mean, what would any other sane, hungry toddler do? You tell me, huhhh? Nearly an hour prior, sitting in the back of their car. Bored. Probably thirsty too. Then a strange place with creepy people – that marshmallow was my only sensory escape. It was comforting. Comforting and delicious…

Keith, how did you feel as you ate it? Ate the marshmallow…

Relieved. It was my salvation. I loved it.

You loved it…

Yes…

But it didn’t last?

Of course it didn’t last. I ate it and the bearded fxxxxxs wouldn’t gimme another one. Not…even…one…more. I mean, one more! How hard is that? I’m four and in a university of repute, in the psych department and all I wanted was one more friggin’ marshmallow. Ahheuuuu….phneurr…

oh, Keith…

(jamesh 2012)