Postscript:
Reflections on marshmallows
and delayed enjoyment

Postscript By Carrie Classon | Contributor | June 2025

In fact, I think there’s a good chance, when the second one arrived, I would have let that one sit as well, thinking I could be the first 4-year-old in history to be awarded three marshmallows. Of course, I now realize that instead of getting a third marshmallow, all the other kids would be enjoying their marshmallows, the researchers would turn off the lights and leave, and I’d be left alone in the room until the janitor showed up.

Lately I’ve been wondering what would happen if, instead of giving the test to 4-year-olds, we brought in subjects over age 50 and asked them if they would like one marshmallow now or wait for two. I’m guessing the results would be different.

First, the older participants might be thinking about their waistlines. They might be calculating the calories in a marshmallow and thinking they had better stop with one. They might be short on time. When you get to be older, you’re not sure how much time you have left, so do you want to spend it sitting around in some psychology lab all day in hopes of a bonus marshmallow? Or they might just decide that they’ve had enough treats. Maybe more than enough. They might eat that marshmallow and say, “Great marshmallow! I gotta go,” because they’re honestly happy with one marshmallow.

This is why I still think about that test. How long do I wait for a good thing to happen, and when is it time to realize that now – right now – is what I’ve been waiting for? When do I decide that what was appropriate for a 4-year-old may not make sense for me today?

I shared this idea with a friend whom I thought might be delaying her enjoyment unnecessarily. I suggested she had already passed the marshmallow test and, like me, would always be waiting for another marshmallow.

“I know,” she sighed. “And I don’t even like marshmallows!”

Right now, I’m busy revising a book and rehearsing a show, and neither one will come to fruition until next year. As usual, I remind myself that marshmallows come to those who delay gratification. But I also realize that I have one advantage those 4-year-olds didn’t. I know I’m happy right here, right now, before the book is out or a single show has been performed. I know that even if they run out of marshmallows I’ll continue to have a very fine life without any kind of reward. I wouldn’t have known any of that when I was four.

I’m enjoying myself today, waiting for my marshmallow. I’m enjoying the process, enjoying the sunshine coming in through the windows, even enjoying the sight of everyone else eating marshmallows.

Till next time.

Postscript: Reflections on tornados and perpetual optimism (May 2025)
Postscript: Levitating cats, learned helplessness, and 10 years of marriage (April 2025)
Postscript: Circling friendships and my 100-year-old grandmother (March 2025)
Postscript: My car wash dress and the fine tradition of friendly teasing (February 2025)
Postscript: Little luxuries and being unreasonable (January 2025)

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