What sounds like a bad appetizer is actually a great way to remove chewing gum from leather. How do I know this? Because I had the pleasure of orchestrating the perfect cover-up with my 8 year old niece. Last weekend, I was visiting my mom and the little one decided she was going to stay up and catch the second showing of Star Gate with Uncle Chico on Friday night. She hated it and passed out on my shoulder from boredom instead in the den while we were sitting on the couch. An hour later, when I stood up, I realized I was stuck to the couch by a 4 foot streaming mess of previously hot pink cheap gum. The gum was that can shaped, plastic-looking crap usually wrapped in blue, red and yellow wax paper with white letters, Bazooka Gum perhaps. It's the bane of every parent out there, but the most beloved piece of affordable candy available to an 8 year old. In that split second between standing and looking at that string of gum, I knew there was an ass-whoopin' coming. Kassie woke up, saw the gum stuck to me and the couch, and that look of absolute panic in her eyes appeared, nearly breaking my heart. In my most understanding, grown-up voice I told her, "You realize grandma is gonna beat your ass don't ya?" Now, before I hear about how it's not kosher to cuss in front of kids, my family is very open about the use of swear words. There are times and emergencies they can be used, based on a sliding age scale, but all the kids in the family know every single word by age 3 and who not to repeat them to. This was one of those times.
Now, Kassie follows most rules really well, but typically does not exude what I envisioned as typical 8 year old kid behavior towards adults. She's charming with a touch of smug, smart yet sassy, and asks strange adult-type questions like, "You seem distracted, what's on your mind today?" or "Have you had your daily supply of Vitamin C?" These are the things that make me like her, which is unexpected since I always thought of myself as not a kid person, but it is also that same attitude that gets her into trouble often. So, as this situation played out, she knew this was a dire situation her ass was in trouble again. She left her usually sharp witted quips out and just said in a shaky voice "I really didn't mean to!" Now, I had my share of troubles as a kid and my mom is not afraid to use the belt, her hand, or a switch, whatever is most convenient, to teach us what is wrong and what is right. What would have been right was Kassie spitting out her gum earlier when grandma said too, instead she was stubborn and had treaded knee high into a shit pile. This was my mom's favorite couch that was purchased last year, and was probably the most expensive thing in the house, and there was a 2 x 3" blob smeared into it's light smooth tan luxuriant seat cushion. That was definitely wrong. In that one moment of absolute horror, I looked at her with that dreaded slow head shake of disbelief to reconfirmed that she was definitely going to die tonight over this fuck-up when I realized maybe I should try to help her. It was strange. Looking at her I realized, quite by surprise, that I was the grown-up on duty then and I could try to help her get away with a crime. Doing this, I could easily surpass her own mother and become the coolest thing in her life! It was so manipulative and devious, I just had to give it a shot. I told Kassie not to panic and I would think of something. She then said in the most pathetic quivering voice I have ever heard come from anyone's lips, "I don't want to get a whuppin'." That's when guilt hit me for even thinking of doing this for anything other than love (and battling our common foe-grandma) and I officially decided I'd help her fix it before anyone was the wiser. I had just found out, first hand, that kids are experts when it comes to recruiting accomplices.
Now my plan was simple, grab an ice cube, put it on the chewing gum, and pull it off. The problem with that it turned out was that I had unwittingly mashed the gum into the fabric to the point where it had bonded to the cushion like crazy glue. Every piece we tried to pull would only give a little string to tease us with while the remaining glob sneered it's ugly miscolored torso. After 10 minutes, the stain looked even worse! Chunks were pulled out but we had hit the pint were it wouldn't even scrape up and now I had water all over the couch! Kassie was content to pick at it like a scab for God knows how long until I told her we should check the internet. The internet for her was games and
Jaime Lynn Spears in the form of Zoey 101. I didn't even know Britney Spears' sister had a show. My suggestion to use the internet as a tool was the most foreign thing to her. I felt obligated to tell her in the cheeziest
South Park version of Al Gore that I could manage, "The internet is the most powerful tool a kid can use to find Manbearpig. That's why I invented it." I found out quickly my sense of humor is lost to an 8 year old girl who only watches the Disney channel and Nickelodien. Actually, it's lost to most of the population.
After a quick entry of "gum leather couch removal" into the Google box, I saw multiple hits of the same thing: peanut butter. Turns out peanut butter will remove gum from quite a bit of stuff. Who would have thought. Kassie thought I was bull-shitting her and almost went into hysterics when I pulled the peanut butter out of the cabinet and spread it over my mother's cushions. To tell the truth, I was a bit nervous myself at this point. I wiped on, then wiped off like the Karate Kid and to my surprise some of the gum came up! The problem was there was still gum! A little more reading told me that it may have to be repeated 4-5 times. No problem. Now usually, this is the happy finale, but a horrible twist happened. The reason I was home in the first place was for my mom's surprise retirement party. The party was tomorrow, Saturday night, and my sister, Kassie's mom, had went to Walmart earlier for a late-night supply run with my cousin to make some tuna-fish salad for the party (of course they bought it to give to my mom for her to make it for her own party, but mom thought she was making it for someone else's party, now that's fucked up). Well, I hear a car door close outside and realize it's my sister and cousin getting back from Walmart. Kassie looks at me all wild-eyed, like a cornered dog, and I know we are sooooo busted. Her mom will help clean up the mess, but Kassie will bet a spanking regardless. When she realized I didn't have a plan, her look of panic lessened and her shoulders slumped and she ran to the couch and what I thought would be a hug was actually her throwing her body on the couch over the stain just as her mom opens the back door to the den where we were watching TV. I have to admit Kassie is much better under stress than I was as a kid, she relaxed her body and it looked like she was out cold, directly over the stain. My sister said, "Awh she fell asleep out here?" And I just responded, yep she was watching TV with me. I was knee-deep in subterfuge now so I had to go along with the ride, damn that Kassie.
Well, of course, since my sister is making all that noise putting stuff up at midnight, my mom wakes up and comes into the kitchen/den area (it's designed with that open floor plan where the kitchen and den are all one big room). Kassie's "asleep" and hasn't opened one eye or moved a muscle, even when I whispered to her she had better not move no matter what. In a panic I realized I left the peanut butter sitting on the couch, my mother's couch, the expensive "you had better not eat on my couch or I'm gonna make you eat the crumbs off it" couch. Shit, I might be in trouble. Somehow, I managed to grab the peanut butter, slide it behind my back, get it to the kitchen and just as I put it on the counter, my mom turns around and sees me trying to sneak it back. "What are you doing with that peanut butter?" she asks. "Uhm, I was just craving some." I replied. Luckily, my family members are a little over-weight so late night craving are completely understandable. Being the skinniest in the family, I'm always encouraged to "put on a little weight" since I was too thin at 160 lbs. I dropped the peanut butter on the counter, looked at Kassie who was still sleeping, and breathed a sigh of relief. Kassie was suppose to stay the night at Grandma's so my sister and cousin left after another 5 minutes and my mom decided she was really tired and I should carry Kassie to bed whenever I was ready to sleep. We said our goodnights and as soon as my mom had went to her room, Kassie came to life. We both grabbed for the peanut butter, ran to the couch and applied layer after layer of peanut butter until finally, it was gone. It just dissolved into a liquid goo that wiped right off. The couch actually looked really great in that one spot. Maybe a little too great. Are you suppose to oil leather to give it a nice healthy glow? I guess it is skin so a little cocoa butter couldn't hurt. Anyway, as we got out the remaining gum residue, I looked at Kassie and told her, she got lucky this time but she needs to be more careful. All she said was "it took you long enough to clean it," gave me a hug, and went to sleep on the chair next to me. Kids, so arrogant, needy, troublesome, yet so charming. She refused to leave my side most of the weekend so I guess we are best friends for now, at least until it's not cool to hang around your uncle during visits. If that happens, I'll probably be a little sad, but hopefully she'll eventually remember that time Uncle Chico helped her get gum out of grandma's chair and call me up to say "Hi" occasionally. Afterall, if I can't be the coolest person she knows, at least I can be her favorite uncle.
Needless to say I just pulled it out of the box Xmas morning to avert Taylor's surprise becoming one of those moments that scar children for the rest of their life. Even though I made it look as harmless as possible (with baby dolls riding the back of it), she was still terrified of it. I didn't capture that moment of absolute terror on film as her mom hoisted her in the air to drop her on this beast, but believe me, that image and her screams were was too painful to share. She warmed up to it a little after I "fed" Mr. Scary Camel potato chips and ensured her he would not eat my fingers off but it didn't help that the older kids screamed in horror too when they saw it sitting in the middle of the den...
