Time: 12:28 yesterday afternoon. Location: checkout lane 5 at grocery store. Mr. G and Mr. B beg Green Girl to spend their money on gum. She argues that their track record with gum is filled with remorse and recrimination (remember the time you lost half your bangs 2 years ago, Mr. B? remember how we had to cut it out of your bedroom carpet that time last fall?) We promise! We'll be good! Where does gum go? In the garbage or in your mouth! NOT in your bedroom or anywhere else right? Not on the floor, not in your bed, not under my furniture. Yes. Only in our mouth or in the garbage.
Time: 1:23 this morning. Location: next to Green Girl's bed. Mr. G wakes her up sobbing. I'm all sticky. There's gum all over my bed. Green Girl rolls over and drags him into the bathroom where she rubs his arms, torso, hands and face free of gum with a washcloth dipped in rubbing alcohol. She strips off his gummed-up pajama pants and bundles him into the sleeping bag she keeps next to her bed. She doesn't have to courage to face his bedding until later in the day.
Mr. G might be a gummy little worm, but Green Girl?
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