Oh Dear...

I wasn't good at multitasking before wedding plans were underway. Now, one month before the Big Day (my daughter's Big Day), I am much worse than ever.

This past Sunday, after church, I was driving home when I realized...I'd been chewing on the same piece of minty gum since before I got there, that morning. I was instantly obsessed with the notion of getting rid of it.

As I motored along, I rooted about my console for the tiny ice-blue wrapper the piece of gum came in - or any wrapper, for that matter. Nothing. Not even a piece of paper, anywhere, from which a small corner could be sacrificed, and the no-longer-minty gum deposited in the fragment, then stuffed into my ashtray, which obviously is not ever used for ashes. (It is full of tiny wads of chewed gum, scrupulously wrapped in the tiny paper each piece came in. I can't bring myself to divest of my used gum in any other manner.)

Where is this going? Steel yourselves, my friends. This is psychotic.

No wrappers, no paper. What to do? I planned that at the next stop light, I would roll down my window, and very forcefully eject said piece of gum onto the grassy median to my immediate left. Unladylike, but necessary. Besides, no one ever walks there, I promise. As I neared the stop light, I rolled down my window. The light went from green to yellow. "HOO-rah." thought I. "This'll be an easy spit. From a stopped car."

As I came to a stop, with perfect timing, my cell phone rang. From my purse.

Ooooh, you can't make this stuff up.

I took a deep cleansing breath....iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin through the nose.....and pulled my purse onto my lap, unzipping it and opening it wide.

I. Almost. Did it.

I came within a split second of hocking that wad of gum into my purse, just as hard as I could. But I didn't. My inner alarm sounded: RED ALERT! RED ALERT! RED ALERT! My face froze into what had to have been a shocking expression of horror.

That phone call never got answered. I giggled till the tears came, very nearly (and gleefully) losing my mind in the process.

Ever since Sunday, the memory returns to me at the most inopportune times, robbing me of all dignity.
Post a Comment