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Another year, another marshmallow

Compiled by Allen R. Smith

My four-year-old friend, Tyler, was one of the most enthusiastic students I have ever taught. I had the pleasure of watching him progress from the carpet in Tiger Hollow, to the Hooter chair over his six-week Wee-ski program.He was there when it was 35 degrees and sheeting down rain. He was there when it was ten below and blowing 35 miles per hour.During one of our cocoa breaks, I asked him how old he was so I would know how many marshmallows to put in his cocoa. He said he was “fow yeows owd.”Two weeks later, as we were walking in from the slopes to our midmorning cocoa and marshmallow break, Tyler brightly announced, “Wick! Guess what?””What, Tyler?””I had a berfday!””Congratulations, Tyler! How old are you now?””I’m SIX marshmallows owd!”- Rick Trostel, Juneau, AlaskaEvasive action failsOn a brisk morning several years ago, I was riding up a lift with a 6-year-old boy. We decided to take a break from the rigors of our lesson by touring the mountain, highlighting various points of interest. Half way up the hill, I remembered that we were on the lift that would take us past the “Mardi Gras” tree.Every February in celebration of the famous New Orleans holiday, people toss colored beads on the tree to decorate its branches. From a distance, the beads make it look like a Christmas tree of sorts. In the true spirit of Mardi Gras, people also adorned the tree with a large array of bras, panties and other assorted undergarments.Realizing that we would soon be next to the tree, I attempted to divert the young boy’s attention in the opposite direction by pointing at a tall peak on the horizon. It didn’t work. The boy’s attention quickly returned to the tree, focusing on it like a laser beam.With a puzzled look on his face, he asked, “Hey. How did they get their panties off over their skis?”- Glen Coates, Okemo, Vt.Vail, Colorado


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