Snapshot: Gumball(less)

For as long as I know, I have loved gum. When I was cast as Violet in Willy Wonka and got to chew gum onstage, it was like a dream come true. This jar of bubble gum was given to me two days ago by my mother when she was visiting in Williamsburg.

Proof (or lack thereof).

Two days ago. It was full two days ago. A few hall mates may have grabbed a few gumballs here and there (looking at you, Rachel) but this was almost completely my doing. If we're being honest, the jar is now empty. I took this picture at ten this morning. I don't know how I don't have cavities; I just really really really like gum. The love started young.

My mom took my sister and me to a candy store in a small downtown area near our house when I was no older than five. I really wanted a piece of Bazooka bubble gum, so I asked my mom if I could have it. She said, sarcastically, "Yeah, if you can pay for it." Now, I don't know if you've ever used sarcasm with young children, but here's something important to know: Kids under the age of, oh, eight can't comprehend sarcasm. I think I've read an article about this or something.

So five-year-old me thought my mom meant I could have the gum. So I started chewing it. My mom didn't notice until we were already in the car driving home. She was furious. She took away my favorite doll (although it clearly didn't do lasting psychological damage, because I can't for the life of me remember what this doll looked like) and gave me quite the talking-to. I'd stolen a piece of gum, but I hadn't meant to. Stealing is wrong, but if you don't know you're doing it, does it count?

Well, yes. And no. The truth is, I'm not really sure. In this case, the law would certainly rule that stealing is stealing (however, the law wouldn't have ruled at all in this case because we're talking about a child). But if you kill someone, or hurt someone, it's still wrong, and you'll still be punished. That's what we have manslaughter for. But I digress. This is a bit heavy for a conversation about bubble gum. My sincere apologies.

As it is, I'm trapped in the Campus Center and it's pouring rain outside in typical Williamsburg fashion. I have 43 minutes to get to the Wesley house for a meeting. Here to there is maybe three city blocks, which is far when it feels like there's a minor flood occurring. Oh, well. Here's to hoping it'll stop in the next half an hour. Really really really hoping.