Day 92: Gum

We were standing in the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant in Hays, Kansas – on our way back from Colorado. We’d just fed the kids and were looking at another two and a half hours of driving before we got home.

To say it had been an effortless trip would be an exaggeration. But it had been relatively smooth. This was only our second (and final) real stop for the day. The only other was in a little town in Colorado where we’d gassed up.

And we did stop once on the side of the road for Sam. It was a desperation move. He likes to chew gum. And for a two-year-old, he’s remarkably responsible about it. He’ll chew and chew and chew and chew. And then, when he decides he’s done, he’ll spit it out – into someone’s hand. Mary usually gets that job.

But as we were heading across the plains of eastern Colorado, Sam decided he wanted gum. “I want gum!” Those were his exact words, over and over. Of course, we had no gum at that moment. And though we tried to explain this fact to Sam, he refused reason. Tears poured down his face, and he just wailed: “I want gum!”

We normally ignore such outbursts, but after about 30 minutes, this one was getting ridiculous. So we stopped and tried some discipline. It didn’t work. He just kept wailing. But his shoes at some point during our trip had been removed, and he noticed this fact and demanded that he wear them. So we put them on him, and he almost instantly was silent. He’d forgotten about the gum and appeared content at least to have some footwear on. We put him back in his seat and within 10 minutes was asleep, whimpering as he sucked his thumb.

I describe all of this because as Mary and I stood in that parking lot in Hays while our kids buckled themselves in their car seats, I looked over at the convenience store next door and then back at Mary. “Do we need any gum?” I asked. Mary looked at Sam and considered the possibilities. “Yes,” she said quickly.

So I jogged over there and bought a pack of Juicy Fruit. The clerk was a 50-something guy, with short hair and glasses. We exchanged pleasantries, along with a dollar and some change. Then I asked him my question. “Yes,” he said immediately. This struck me for some reason as odd. So I asked him again to make sure he heard me correctly – that I wanted to pray for him. “Yes,” he said again.

So I prayed for him. He thanked me later, and I took my gum and headed for home. Sam asked for a piece at about the time we reached Salina.