Marshmallow
Last week, plums gathered, washed and sliced open, pitted, potted, boiled. Sugar added. Jam in the making. But the plums this year were smaller and not as sweet as usual. So I needed more sugar. But, of course the pantry was dry and the neighbors off doing what working folks do during the day, I had no option but to drag myself to the store. Wait a minute. What summer fruit has enough sugar to be almost illegal? What is round, plump, white and eaten at midsummer firesides? Well I had a bag of those and why not? So I popped marshmallows into the stew. One, two, three, four… That did the trick.
The jam tastes amazing. No longer vegan friendly though. And there goes the kosher seal. Gelatin in them mallows is probably derived from pig paws or the like. I digress. After improvising with my jamming, I buttered my toast and scooped a spoonful. Instant gratification that expanded into minutes of bliss. Everything about the crisp buttered rye with sweet, sour plum magic was sublime.
Talking of which, do you remember the famous Marshmallow Test that spawned a generation of parents coaching their children to delay gratification and thereby earn a fabulously successful future? Personally I have always had test performance issues. But that is one test I would not regret failing. If you missed this in psych 01 this was an experiment done in the late 1960’s at Stanford (with 4 year old kids of the faculty) where a child was rewarded with one marshmallow and told that only if s/he wait on devouring or playing with it, the adult in the room will return with another. Eat now, you get one. Delay for a reasonable time and you get 2. This turned into a longitudinal study that looked at how the success markers of instant gobblers compared to those of kids who sat on their hands. Spoiler alert. Findings were interesting...and if do not skip to the end or Google the results I will give you twice the drama along the way.
What would the inverse of this test tell us? You may have better ideas for this but as I have the microphone right now, what if the kids walked into a room with a huge pile of marshmallows on the table and told that they can have as many as they want? There is no right number. But they must not keep more than they feel like they need in the next hour. Put the extras in the bucket. Then call the adult.
Would the child who is content with the lowest number of marshmallows grow up to have modest expectations and be the most content and fulfilled adult? Would the child who cannot part from any in his pile grow up to be a hoarder, programmed for scarcity?
The delayed gratification parenting mantra probably makes sense for better SAT scores later in life, but knowing when your plate is full, taking only what you need, trusting that there is enough, and giving yourself permission to savor it right now, that hot maroon jam delight, indulged before the pot has even cooled, that too is a measure of success, perhaps as important as any other.
