Bonding over graham cracker s’mores

Since I love all things chocolate, it tickled my heart to discover my great-nephew Caden Prindle shares my passion for the confectionery delight.

We were making s’mores in front of a roaring fire when the five-year-old asked for a pain piece of Hershey’s chocolate without the marshmallow and graham cracker.

After the youngster’s Aunt Rachel, my niece, granted his request, we both snatched a piece of the tasty treat from the tray of s’mores ingredients. The two of us flashed our pearly whites at one another as we sank our teeth into the delectable delicacy letting it melt in our mouths.

Not more than five minutes later, the little shaver was back to ask for another piece of deliciousness. Only this time, he simply asked me already knowing what the answer would be.

I looked at the little whippersnapper with wide eyes and told him he could have one more piece. However, when the rising kindergartner arrived at the s’mores condiment station, there were only two pieces of a Hershey’s chocolate bar left.

The little lad’s 3-year-old sister, Harper, also desired to have a piece of the scrumptious candy. When he seized both of them, the long brown-haired lass began to cry out in discontent. After I quickly explained the importance of sharing, the little nipper gave in to his sibling’s demands.

What transpired over the next few moments touched my heart until I was almost at the point of tears.

Originally, the brown-haired little boy was attempting to acquire both pieces of the decadent treat in order to give one to me. But after I basically told the 5-year-old to give his younger sister a portion, he only had one piece of chocolate with three small squares for himself. Instead of shoving the whole thing into his mouth and calling it a day, that little 5-year-old broke off a piece for me and a piece for himself. With only one more piece left, my great-nephew broke it into two giving us both a half piece, in his words, “to make it even.”

The evening of bonding in front of the fire began hours earlier when I journeyed from Branson, Missouri with my parents to my brother’s house in the Kansas City area to spend the last couple days of our vacation together.

When we arrived, my niece Nicole was already there with her little brood – Wyatt, Caden, Harper and Oliver “Ollie.”

As we readied ourselves to go over and spend some time with Uncle Kurt and Aunt Tammy, the sister of my sister-in-law Jenn, at their house, Caden decided he wanted to ride along with me.

He was going to ride in the golf cart with his mom and dad Austin, who is a law enforcement officer for the City of Gladstone, over to his great-aunt and uncle’s place, which was almost directly behind his grandparents house.

But when the young chap discovered his PaPa, my brother, was taking our father and me over in their family’s mini van, he quickly changed his mind about what mode of transportation he preferred.

The youngster came bounding over to the motor vehicle and climbed inside after his grandfather placed the booster seats in the third row of seating.

However, when the little whippersnapper realized I was riding in the second row of seats, he desired to sit in the seat directly across from me.

The rising kindergartner decided not to use a booster seat for the short ride. But after a little coaxing from me, he agreed the safety mechanism would be the better option.

Thinking we were ready to cruise on down the road, the brown-haired little boy had to climb over me twice.

Once to find his Nerf football so we could play catch. And the other so he could find his sneakers.

With everyone seated, we were finally ready to head out for the three minute drive out onto the main road to the next driveway over, which led to Caden’s great-uncle and aunt’s house.

Before pulling out of the driveway, I helped the five-year-old snap into his seat belt.

Then he handed me a pair of earphones and asked me to put them on so the two of us could watch a movie together on their movie players attached to the back of the front seats.

The fact that the little shaver’s grandfather informed him that the trip was very short indeed didn’t seem to deter him in his quest to watch Shrek.

After we arrived at our destination, the little guy couldn’t remember what he did with the football. So we couldn’t play catch. It was much to dark for that anyway.

But all else was forgotten when we both spotted the chocolate for the s’mores. The two of us quickly joined the others by the fire to roast our marshmallows.

The cute little bugger came over and handed me a square marshmallow and the metal tongs on which to roast it. The lad brought me the graham crackers and a piece of chocolate when the time was right. He was a very helpful little fella.

After finishing my second s’more, the 5-year-old called out to me to inquire how many of the campfire treats I had consumed. When I answered back that I had eaten two of the delicious snacks, he was pleased to know he had kept pace with me.

Of course, I never did learn how to eat s’mores without making a mess. So we also had something else in common. We looked just alike with chocolate and marshmallow smeared all over our upper lip.

Once the night was through and it was time to go back to the house, Caden came running over to give me a high five before his PaPa took me and my parents back to the house in the golf cart.

Just then, 7-year-old Wyatt came charging over to give me his own high five.

But not to be outdone by his big brother, the rising kindergartner came running back and gave me a fist bump. He had a strong need to be the last one to wish me good night. Since we are the second born in our respective family units, another commonality we share, I went to bed with a smile on my face knowing that I bonded with the cute little bugger over s’mores.

It meant the world to me just knowing that sweet memory will stay with me for the rest of my days.