Gum would be perfection

So, a lady thought I was trying to kidnap her child today.

At least, I think that’s what she thought as she saw her toddler following a trail of peppermint gum on the ground leading to me, hunched over like the creepy witch in Hansel and Gretel. It’s kind of hilarious to me that anyone would think I would want to steal their child, since I’d rather get a habeñero extract enema than take care of a toddler*, but whatever. I guess this lady didn’t have a copy of my current toddler/enema cost benefit analysis fact sheet, so I shouldn’t blame her.

What happened is, a few weeks ago I bought a couple of those Big-E-Paks of peppermint Eclipse on account of my three-cups-of-coffee morning routine makes my breath smell like rotting corpse anus and I was going through packs of gum like there was no tomorrow. I put the tubs o’gum in my purse as I walked out of the store and, naturally, by the next morning the tops had both popped open and sent 400 pieces of gum swirling down into the depths of my purse. Instead of corralling the loose gum like a normal person, I decided it would be way easier to leave it there and just ram my hand down into the bottom of my purse whenever I want a piece of gum. Upside: Spares me the clearly enormous hassle of opening the container and shaking out a piece. Downside: The looks people give you when you reach your hand into your purse, grab a mysterious, unwrapped object and pop it into your mouth.

Contributing to this deliciously white-trash ritual is my wallet, which refuses to stay shut on account of it is stuffed with all the money I make at my incredibly high-paying job, and also, the clasp is broken. Which means that gum often becomes wedged inside my wallet so that when I pull it out and open it, a ton of pieces shower to the floor – kind of like a Skittles commercial, if Skittles changed its slogan from “Taste the rainbow” to “Taste the dirty underbelly of a musty purse.” Usually I try and pass it off like it’s totally normal to leave behind a magical trail of sweets, and I was employing that method in line at the store yesterday when a toddler crawling on the ground by his mom’s feet spotted my treasure trove of gum and made a beeline toward me. I’m not a total monster, so my first instinct was to bend down to make sure he didn’t put any of it in his mouth. I can only imagine his mom’s surprise when she turned around to see me lording over the gum trailhead, reaching out toward her child. She literally ran over to where I was standing and snatched him up while giving me a super dirty look, like a person with GUM RAINING FROM HER PURSE would have the stealth skills required to kidnap a child.

If you were wondering, this story doesn’t have a point, except that I’d rather be telling it than calling back a lady who wants me to write a news article about how she’s Dog the Bounty Hunter’s secret daughter. Oh, my life.

*Except my cute little nephew, who I am delighted to take care any time he is not pooping or screaming.


5 thoughts on “Gum would be perfection

    1. heatherhomefaker Post author

      Totally. I went to IMDb to find a quote from that movie I was trying to remember … there of course weren’t any listed, but I DID find this gem of a comment:

      “Were these 2 argumentative crumb munchers cute or a gargantuan pain in the butt? Cute and funny show not intended to be anything but what it was – mindless Christmas entertainment. My Christmas wish is to never have kids, especially a pair like this duo.”


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