Okay, answer this: is there anything more revolting than pulling a big wad of spent chewing gum out of your germy mouth and sticking it to the underside of a restaurant table? Last night, while having our annual Japanese steakhouse dinner to celebrate Eric's birthday, Caramia reached under the table and came up with a gob of calcified Wrigley's Spearmint. It made my skin crawl. Thank God for baby wipes -- I nearly scoured the poor child's fingerprints clean off. It reminded me of the time when Olivia was two and did the same thing -- only she managed to get the gum into her mouth before we stopped her. Honest to God, I'd rather my kids ate stale bird poop than some stranger's ABC gum. Think about it -- I bet you'll agree.

How lazy are you that the best way you can think of to get rid of your unwanted gum is to stick it on a piece of furniture? Like the rest of us want to see -- much less touch -- your fossilized Bubblicious? I'm declaring a fatwa on gum gobbers. Death to you and your nasty vulgarian ways! Like the world isn't crawling with trash receptacles, you shiftless slobs? Aaaarrrrgggghh!