Gummi Galore
Tonight, my friend Martha came over for dinner and we exchanged Christmas gifts. One of my presents from her was a bag of fried egg gummi. Fried eggs! When I was a little girl, gummi was pretty straightforward. You could buy the bears or you could buy the miniature Coke bottles. That's it. Haribo, the makers of my favorite gummis, had not yet diversified their product line to include centipedes, clown fish, crocodiles, rattlesnakes, and twin cherries. Eating candy was a lot less stressful back then. These days, you can buy gummi anything. Gummi jet fighters, gummi Army guys, gummi road kill, gummi Christmas trees, gummi googly eyes, halal gummies, kosher gummies. And surely this must be a sign that the apocalypse is upon us - you can even buy gummi breasts and penises. Ah, how I yearn for the simplicity of my childhood - necklaces of clover, the sound of a tennis shoe against a red rubber ball, and a small sack of gummi Cokes jammed in the back pocket of my favorite flowered pants.
deb
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