Bubble gum and peanut butter morning

This is a highly fictionalized account of a childhood memory I used for my cause-and-effect paper for English class. Hope you enjoy. Am expecting emails of protest from my mom and sister here shortly... :-) But I SAID it was HIGHLY fictionalized!!
~Princess Ouch~

BUBBLE GUM AND PEANUT BUTTER
MORNING

Usually gum provides pleasant experiences. Bubble competitions, snapping noises, jaw exercise, bragging rights can all be done with nothing more than a simple piece of gum; and possibly a friend or two. However, one little girl did not have such a pleasurable experience. In fact, this little girl’s experience was nothing less than traumatic. It scarred her and effectively kept her away from bubble gum for most of her life. Her trauma has kept her from experiencing the bliss of blowing a bubble the size of her head. It has kept her from allowing her competition to fully realize its ridiculousness when friends pull gum out of their mouth into long strings and compare it to see who has created the longest and the thinnest. It has kept this poor child from learning the discipline of not snapping her gum in the middle of an exceptionally long and boring Church service.
This girl used to love gum. It was one of her best friends. It helped her through very boring and trying times. But one fateful day, the little girl woke up to find that her sister had done something horrible. It was something both girls had been warned against. Their mother had pleaded with them never to commit this fateful mistake. The sister did what the girl had experienced nightmares over. The sister had fallen asleep with gum in her mouth, and the gum had gotten into her hair.
The sister had very fine, wispy blond hair. Not only was it fine and wispy, but there was a lot of it on the child’s head. The gum had fallen out of the sister’s mouth while she slept and had become as thoroughly matted, twisted, tangled and stuck in the hair as is conceivably possible.
The girls’ mother was a creative and resourceful woman, and rather than simply snipping off the long, white-gold tresses of the sister, she made her way to the pantry and drew out a jar of peanut butter. The wise, resourceful woman then began to slather the sister’s hair with peanut butter, and then massage it into the tangled tresses. As she massaged, she began murmuring to the little girl the reasons behind her warnings in the past, and how she should now understand to never again fall asleep with gum in her mouth.
However, the little sister was still very young. She didn’t like having the slimy goo massaged into her hair. She didn’t like having the knots in her hair pulled at as the mother tried to grease all ends of the tangle. She didn’t like having to sit still. She didn’t like having to listen to a speech in which her imperfections were expounded upon. She desperately wanted the mess in her hair gone now so she could go play fairy tales so she could forget that she was a fallible human being subject to the normal laws of gravity and physics like the rest of humankind. So she began to sob and pull away, stomping her little feet and slapping away the mother and scissors with her little hands.
However, not only was the mother wise and resourceful, but she was of German descent and not the kind to put up with nonsense. She was a born leader and quickly let the little sister know in no uncertain terms that such behavior was detrimental to cleaning her hair. After the peanut butter was finished being administered, she could take a nice bath and both the gum and the goo would be washed away.
The little sister was not one to be soothed with promises she was certain were vain and simply meant to pacify her for another’s ulterior motives. Being of German descent herself, the little girl began a crusade in which she would prove to the world at the tender age of five that she would not be taken in with idle promises. Those who sought to deceive her would face dire consequences!
The little girl watched in horror as the mother and sister began a brief power struggle. It ended suddenly when the mother reached for a large pair of scissors and threatened to shear the little girl’s hair to a length that was tragically short. Now the little girl’s hair was her pride and joy, the subject of many compliments and a necessary prop for many princess parties. It could not be lost. So after a final battle cry of rage, she submitted herself to her mother’s administrations. Though not without the occasional sob that the battle of power had once again been lost, and her will once again thwarted.
In the end, despite all her attempts with the peanut butter, the mother was forced to make a few small snips to get the mass of gum out of the sister’s hair. The peanut butter had made the gum slippery and slightly more manageable than before; but it had also slightly dissolved the gum so that the mess had spread, creating new tangles.
After two hours, the little sister walked out of the bathroom with her hand confidently in that of her mother’s, both retiring to the kitchen for a hard-earned cookie and glass of milk. The sister’s hair was in a slightly different style than it had been the night before, and the mother’s hair turned gray slightly sooner than it may have, had the morning’s experience not taken place. The mother held the little sister on her lap, the two smiling and talking about the nice little things five year old girls talk with their mother about. If one hadn’t been witness to the event, one would not have known that anything traumatic had happened.
But the little girl had witnessed it. The little girl had seen the horrifying effects bubble gum can have on a girl’s hairstyle, her relationships, her sense of identity, her plans for the future. Her little sister’s entire morning had been consumed by tears and peanut butter, all for the sake of an unfortunate piece of gum. The little girl vowed to never live through such an experience. The little girl promised herself that she would never be the victim of a gum and peanut butter morning. But she could find no way to guarantee that she could avoid succumbing to fatigue one day while chewing gum. As a result, the girl avoided gum altogether. Friends offered tasty morsels, games were organized, competitions ensued, but the little girl remained true to her conviction and did not chew gum. She succeeded in her goal; she never fell asleep with gum in her hair. But one must wonder if the fear that held her captive for so long cheated her of the character she could have built through such an experience. The trust she could have learned to place in her mother and the better relationship in her teenage years that would have resulted. The fine artistic talents of snapping and bubble blowing that she could have cultivated.
Yes, the girl was safe and avoided catastrophe. But it begs the question, was it really worth it? All these fine childhood experiences lost because of one traumatic morning with peanut butter and bubble gum in a sister’s hair.