Peabody is the Gum Queen. She is a responsible gum chewer, neither chomping on it loudly nor taking it out of her mouth to put it in places it ought not to be. Often I'll forget that she has any, and she'll chew the same piece for hours. She reminds me of Auntie Vee who, when she was a cute little curly-headed blonde preschooler, would make the rounds of everyone at church and ask for gum. (It got to the point where people were buying whole packs of gum to give to her when she asked. No lie.) While Peabody hasn't figured out that she can ask other people for gum, she does ask me for it all.the.time. We go through it so fast that I must limit her intake. No longer will I give her a piece right before church, because I know that as soon as she gets to the nursery she'll spit it out in order to eat animal crackers.
So it happened that just before leaving for church last night she asked for a piece of gum, and I told her no. Her jaw dropped in exaggerated disbelief for a few seconds, then she marched over to me, grabbed the front of my shirt in both hands, scowled up at me and exclaimed fiercely, "You goin' to jail, porkchop!"
I suppose only a Toy Story quote is adequate reprimand for the mother who withholds gum from her (almost) 3-year-old.