W. Bruce Cameron – Attack of the marshmallow-eating alligator

Back in the 1980s, my grandparents, Dick and Emily, moved to Florida because they wanted a better climate to argue in. They had one of those relationships where they fought so much they couldn’t even agree on what they disagreed on.

Their little home in Florida was a few dozen yards from a boggy pond that kept trying to evolve into a swamp. Dick liked to go down to the water’s edge and feed marshmallows to the small alligator who lived there, probably hoping that one day it would grow large enough that he could feed it Emily. Emily would stand at the screen door and yell at him that he was goi...