Massamallo Drop 2014

We not only did a Kensington repeat this year. We also relived the oh-so-spectacular "Massamallow" Drop. Corn syrupy goodness. Helicopters. Waterford. The Easter Bunny. Plus this year, SUN! How could we miss it? And lucky ducks that they are, we dragged the Machnaks along to enjoy the fun.

M: "So, Jack... This helicopter flies over and drops hundreds of marshmallows from the sky..."

J: "No way?!"

M: "...and then you run and pick them up..."

M: "...so we should probably get a move on..." 

M: "Oh, Jack, you're so funny..."

Really though - Maizey and Jack? They're like siblings. Laugh like siblings. (Fight like siblings...) And it's a good thing, since their actual siblings were a tad underwhelmed by the whole thing.

 

But, not this guy (or girl):

Future Milford Mayor, Jack, did some campaigning and practiced his glad-handing.

Meanwhile, Will managed the littles. 

Twins? No thank you.

The anticipation was killing us. 

But we did get some comic relief.

And then...

 WAHOO!

Maizey was better equipped to deal with the competition this year. 

But, per usual, she spent the majority of her time gawking at everything and everybody around her, 

while Jack had his eyes on the prize.

And yes, we were "those parents" again this year. Will had to pocket a mallow to insure Maizey could collect a prize during departure - she was housing the rest of her booty. 

Girl after my heart.

But, Jaclyn did get them both to stop and show off their mallows: 

  

Only problem? We had to talk Jack into eating one. Somebody (not naming names here - Danielle) told him it would be gross to eat a marshmallow off the ground. Oh, live a little, dude.

Hoppy Easter 2014.

Massamallo Drop 2013

What do two loving parents do for their massamallo (marshmallow) loving child? Take her to a Marshmallow Drop, of course. Some families do egg hunts. We opted for scooping generic puffs of corn syrupy goodness off a goose-poop dotted, soggy Waterford soccer field.

What does this entail? Well, participants park, then head to the event grounds to pay the obligatory $5 per car. Then, all are herded into marshmallow drop holding pens (one for 0-5 year olds, one for 6+), to wait for a helicopter to hover overhead and drop a thousand marshmallows onto a field, guarded by intimidating volunteers. Kind of like this...

Head to the grounds...

Enter the holding pen...

Wait (and people watch)...

Intimidating volunteers... 

We were a little early though, so Maizey enjoyed her first ever hot chocolate.

Mmmmm.

So, anyhow, then the helicopter makes it's appearance and people go bananas.   

Or, if you're Maizey, screech "airaplane! airaplane!"

And the drop.

 Marshmallow heaven.

The guards set aside and there's a mad dash toward the drop site.

Of course, the five year olds didn't read the fine print, that you should only pick up ONE mallow, so I had to elbow in and clear a spot for my toddling mallow lover.

Mission accomplished.

Blissful success.

And yes. We let her eat the marshmallows she picked up off said field.

(One fellow participant referred to Will as "one of those kinds of parents." Sigh.)

On our way to the treat tables (where you exchange your presumably inedible soccer field mallow for a hygienic volunteer assembled Ziploc treat bag), Maizey spotted an old friend.

Obsession.

Pleading.

Starry-eyed from five feet.

Terrified from six inches.

Though ever since the encounter she insists "Easer bunny Maizey hug." 

In fact, she refused to leave the "easer bunny."

 Ummmmm, okay. 

Whatever you say, dear.
(Note to self: need to work on appropriate ways to exhibit enthusiasm and affection with holiday characters.)

Was it strange? Yes. Will do it next year? Probably. Did Maizey love it?

 Yes.

I mean, massamallos dropped from the sky.

What's not to love?