Sticky, gooey chewing gum

As children we loved it, but left it because pennies to buy it were as rare as hen’s teeth.

When someone treated us with a piece, we wore it out before we discarded it, sticking it on a bedpost at night — unsanitary, but good.

The recycled gum still retained a little flavor for us to enjoy again and again in our ABC (Already Been Chewed) gum.

Our children had gum often, but still didn’t want to discard it at bedtime. They liked their ABC gum. Jim sought to hide and save his wad by sticking it to his bedframe above his head — until his little sister, Gretta, learned where he stashed it, then it became hers.

One night, I walked into the bedroom just as she raised the sheet on his bed to hide her gum between his sheet and the mattress. Another time I used scissors for a very selective haircut because she had left gum in her mouth and it had fallen out as she slept.

Our home had an L-shaped kitchen, dining, living room. A kitchen cabinet-counter unit with a handy narrow shelf between the counter and cabinet, ended at the corner near our dining set and big logwood heater.

One night, a friend of Grettas joined her for a sleep-over. They had fun, gum, and I tucked them in.

It was a cold, frosty morning and I built a hot fire in that logwood heater so the house was soon toasty.

“Okay, girls, it’s warm now, you can get up,” I said.

They piled out of bed, darted across the room, grabbed their wads of gum off the little shelf behind the stove, and scooted back across the room trailing long strings of sticky gum stretching backward. I followed along with a cube of ice to pick it all up.

But when you have hundreds of school children on hot cement and asphalt playgrounds, the only defense is a strictly enforced “No Chewing Gum” rule.