My Vice

I‘m a gum chewer.

I admit it.

I’ve been like this since always.

Gum and I even have a history. If you want to go and read it now, we’ll wait . . .

I once chewed a piece of gum till it disintegrated.

I’m not making this up.

It takes a while, weeks even; one has to be determined.

But it can be done.

So I’m sure it won’t come as a surprise to you that, through the years in Alberta’s non-chewing houses of learning, gum has gotten me into trouble.

Often.

Sigh.

It started right in the first grade.

“Diane!”

Picture my head snapping up as everything I have ever known disappears instantly and completely from my brain.
Something that happened every time a teacher called my name, for whatever reason.

All the way through college.

Moving on . . .

“What have you got in your mouth? Are you chewing gum?”

Frozen ‘deer in the headlights’ stare.

“You are, aren’t you?! You’re chewing gum!”

Slow, tentative nod.

“Get rid of it!”

At this point, the teacher would usually produce a trash can and hold it up suggestively, indicating that I should make the long, embarrassing trek from my desk to hers to spit out the offending bit of deliciousness.

Which I did.

As I got older, to save myself that final indignity, I would simply swallow the evidence as soon as I was discovered.

“Diane! Are you chewing gum?!”

Gulp.

“Did you swallow it? You did, didn’t you?!” Then, warningly, “It’ll stick your stomach together!”

Did any of this discourage me?

Yes.

Did it stop me?

No.

Then high school and Mrs. Wollersheim, that teacher of teachers.

That paragon of wisdom.

The smartest woman I ever knew.

“Diane! Are you chewing gum?”

Rats.

Mrs. W turned to the class. “Class, do you know the difference between the gum-chewing girl and the cud-chewing cow?”

Huh. Something different. Maybe I’d finally found a teacher who didn’t mind . . .

“It’s the thoughtful look on the face of the cow!”

I guess not.

“Diane! Get rid of it!”

I had already done so, but I nodded anyway.

After that, all she had to do was look at me and I would do a quick and frantic check to see if any gum was loitering somewhere in the vicinity.

But it didn’t stop me.

Nothing stopped me.

As I type this, I‘m working on yet another piece.

When I’m onto something good. I stick with it.

Pun intended.