The little twerp found my stash.
Not only did he find my stash, but he had the nerve to GLOAT about it. He also had the good sense to eat his s'more when I wasn't home, because believe you me, he would not have lived to tell the tale.
I would've choked him with the Stay Puft Marshmallows, crumbled graham crackers over his head, and drizzled melted chocolate over his face.
I now have a much safer stash hiding place. One he'll NEVER think to look in. And even if he does, he won't see the stuff.
Because hell hath no fury like a woman whose s'mores stash has been busted.