I really enjoy making s’mores. I’ll happily wait a long time to get perfect, even coals, so taking five or ten minutes to roast a marshmallow doesn’t seem outrageous to me. I love trying to achieve the ideal roasted marshmallow- crispy and brown on the outside, outrageously puffed from long exposure to heat, gooey inside- and then quickly sliding it on the already prepared (of course!) cracker to melt the chocolate. The only problem with being content to make dozens of s’mores at a sitting? I don’t really like eating s’mores. (That sounds so unpatriotic that it probably warrants a spot in my FBI file.)
The incongruity reverses in the case of salad. I love eating it, but really would rather not make it. If I was offered lettuce to tear, or DMV forms to fill out, I wouldn’t know which to pick.
I think I should befriend people who like to make salad and eat s’mores, and we’ll picnic happily ever after.