Chewy

chew·y   

[choo-ee]

–adjective, chew·i·er, chew·i·est.

(of food) not easily chewed, as because of toughness or stickiness; requiring much chewing.

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Also, oddly enough, Chewy is one of The Princess's nicknames, bestowed upon her by her wonderfully adorable little cousin, K-Bear.
 
While K's fabulous nickname for The Princess came from little kid pronunciation fun, it is becoming apparent to us exactly how appropriate this nickname really is.
 
The Princess has always had oral fixations, shoving everything she can into her mouth and screaming like a banshee when inappropriate items are taken away.  We've kicked around the ideas of chew-tubes and Chewelry, but are honestly so broke and clueless that we've never taken that next step.  It's possible that she'd love them, but wouldn't that just mean we'd have to keep buying them?  Sorry, Chewy...simply not possible on the current salary, if you know what I'm sayin'.
 
Last Friday, The Hubbs, The Princess, and I ventured out to Wal Mart to pick up an online order (too cheap to pay for shipping to the house, don'tchaknow).  Naturally, they put the pickup area for these items all the way at the back of the store so that you have to walk through everything on the way there and back.  You know, just in case there's anything you've forgotten or didn't know you needed.
 
So, we hoofed it across the store, through garden, grocery, clothing, baby items, and home accessories, without a hitch.  We steered our cart (a.k.a. The Princess's Chariot) into the pickup area and proceeded to wait. 
 
The Princess, seemingly out of nowhere, wanted out.  Like, NOW.  She clawed at my shoulders, scrambled to free her little legs, and acted as though the world was coming to an end.
 
Finally, I realized she was trying to get to something over my shoulder.  Turning around, I saw it: the giant red gumball machine with the fish-bowl-like display of gumballs; the entire thing was about two Princesses tall and wide, and she wanted it.
 
The Hubbs took her hand and led her to the machine, where they promptly disposed of a perfectly good quarter and watched the orange gumball roll down the spiral track to the little door at the bottom. 
 
The Princess popped that thing in her mouth, and it was all over.  The biggest chipmunk cheek you could possibly imagine, followed by absolute elation when she figured out she could actually chew on this ginormous thing.  Best quarter I've ever spent.
 
If you know us in real life, you know that our outings are carefully planned, and always ready to change at a moment's notice depending upon The Princess's demeanor, attitude, melt-down-o-meter, whatever you want to call it.
 
So you'll understand how momentous an occasion this was when I tell you that we proceeded from Wal Mart to a garden center (where she can never be trusted) and at least one other place before heading home.  She didn't make one single, solitary sound that was anything other than happy during this entire time.
 
She chewed and walked and smiled and chewed.  She sat in the car and smiled and chewed.  She giggled and chewed and chewed and giggled.  We got home, and she happily gave up her gum in exchange for a sippy cup.
 
Saturday?  Yeah.  She picked out her very own package of Bubble Yum.