I was a teeny little angelic curly dark-headed child in my first term at school, and someone gave me a piece of chewing gum during class. We certainly were never allowed chewing gum at home or at school! Anyway, I popped it into my mouth and began to chew. BUT, it stuck to my teeth, and I just knew I had to get rid of it, or I was going to be in terrible trouble with the teacher. The only thing to do was to pull it out of my mouth. BUT, it stuck to all my little fingers, and no matter how much I tried to pull it off one finger it stuck on the next finger. I became frantic and couldn't wait to get out for play-time so I could wash it off. BUT, I discovered that didn't work either. It seemed I had my hands under the desk all day, trying to pull another bit of this horrible stuff off my hands. At the end of that day, I knew I never ever wanted to touch another piece of this terrible stuff again!
Marie: And yet another story!
It seems to be a trait of the elderly to tell stories and often repeat the same stories. As our family has a major Reunion in February 2015 I will tell a family story each day and NOT repeat it for 100 days. I will use christian names from our earlier generations as pseudonyms.