Things that Make Me Gag

My kids have been taught to equate chewing gum with Satan. This brainwashing has been intense and purposeful since birth. Some couples have to make decisions over spiritual issues before having children. I had to make sure he could support the gum blockade.

There aren't enough adjectives to describe how I feel about gum and there aren't enough verbs to describe what even the mere mention of it does to me. I have a garbage can next to the computer as I type this, just in case.

One Sunday after church Mouse announced on the way home that she had been given chewing gum in Sunday School. I cringingly asked, "And what did you say?" And she replied, "I said, thank you."

I had to remind myself that she was a child and the things I drill in her head over and over have only a 30% chance of having any staying power at all. At least she didn't use the scissors on her hair, Suzanne. It's only gum. But the saner side of my brain did not buy it. I felt she (okay, I) had been violated in a horrific manner. At church!

As I spent the rest of the way home drilling her in a way that would get me work in any branch of the military, Birch kept shooting me these looks that said, "Calm down. Get a hold of yourself. You might be crazier than any of us thought."

How did anyone ever sell this idea to begin with? Here's what it is: a rubbery substance you stick in your mouth for the sole purpose of chewing over and over. If you aren't careful other people get to witness the masticated mess on its journey through your mouth. And nothing can stop the smell from wafting a good four foot diameter from you... fruity flavors, cinnamon, and the worst.... spearmint.

And here's the pinnacle of my gum argument. If you are going to be a chewer (and yes, I'm saying that like "smoker"), please discard of your gum in a polite and sanitary manner (read: where people like me never have to see it).

On my way through the Target parking lot today I stepped in a wad that had previously been rolled through someone's mouth. In my brand new Yellow Box flip-flops. And it was SPEARMINT! If we had any disposable income left at all, I would throw them in the trash and head to Belk. But we don't. So I'm going to go remove them from my car, stash them somewhere in the garage and wait until another day when I am stable enough to handle it. Like next Spring.