The best thing about Alexis going to school is that I am now free to consume gum without her judgey eyes glaring at me from the back seat of the car as she whines, "Can I have a piece?"
No, child, you may not have a piece of gum. You will chew it louder than a cow chews its cud and then you will hand me a slimy, sticky wad of chewed up gum three minutes later when you decide it has lost its taste. The answer is NO. ALWAYS NO. NO GUM FOR YOU.
Needless to say, lately I've been consuming WAY more gum than ever before. Tomorrow I'm going to see if I can shove ten pieces in my face at one time just because there won't be a short person around to ask if she can try it, too.
NO, CHILD. NO GUM FOR YOU.
Over the weekend I had a moment of pure dumb. I forgot that there was a judgey short person in the back seat who demands inclusion. I pulled a pack of gum out of my purse, popped a piece in my mouth, and was about to gleefully chomp on it when I heard that annoying little voice in the back of my head. Or behind my head. Whatever. It was Alexis and she wanted a piece.
ARGH.
I briefly felt like a jerk for even thinking about telling her no while I was chewing gum right there. In her line of vision. I felt like a jerk just long enough to glance inside my purse and remember something.
I had gross gum in there. Not fruity or sweet or refreshing gum ... I had GROSS gum. I had some of that gum that is so minty that it actually burns your face. It's pungent and wicked and ... gross. GROSS.
It's the kind of gum you want to have around right after you've had garlic with a side of spaghetti for dinner. It can chase away the worst of dragon breath as it cold freezes your tongue and renders you unable to taste anything for days.
I totally handed a piece to Alexis.
I figured that the worst that would happen was that she would be all "GROSS!" and hand me a half-chewed slime ball. The best that would happen was that she would she would swear off gum forever as she handed me a half-chewed slime ball.
I couldn't lose.
I watched in the rear view mirror as the kid popped the gum in her mouth. Her eyes opened wide in shock as the concentration of mint exploded and froze her tastebuds. I waited for tears or a complaint or some sort of sign that she was aware that I was intentionally torturing her.
Nothing.
No reaction.
NOTHING.
She chewed it for a few minutes and then started doing that huffy inhaling thing you do when you are amused at how cold the air going into your mouth is. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, just pretend you do. I'd rather not be left thinking I'm the only person who has stood outside in sub-zero weather and inhaled sharply just so I could see if it was possible to freeze siliva while it was still in my mouth.
(It is.)
We drove down the road with the kid sitting in the back seat huffing cold air for miles and miles and miles.
I still wound up with a slimy wad of gum shoved into my hand, but at least it was fully chewed.
