A Gift of Tar
Several years ago the City of Orem decided that the street in our cul de sac needed preventative maintenance. Work crews came through and carefully sprayed all of the cracks with a tarry substance which supposedly extended the life of the street. My children have been fascinated with this street tar ever since. In the winter the stuff is hard and they pretty much leave it alone. In the heat of the summer this tar becomes…gooey. Gleek in particular has been attracted to this tar. She loves the feel of it under her bare feet. I don’t particularly like her walking around in the street and we’ve had many an arguement while each tried to assert her position. Gleek also discovered that she can pick off bits of this tar. She forms these bits of tar into little balls which she plays with as if it were playdoh. Only playdoh doesn’t stain clothes or fingernails or fingers. With the high temperatures of the past week Gleek has made a new discovery about street tar. She can gather large globs and place them on our oven-like front steps and they’ll turn shiny and almost liquid. It also positions the globs perfectly for them to be stepped upon and tracked into our house across the hardwood floors. That was yesterday and Gleek was told never to do it again. Today I found a glob the size of a child’s fist sitting on our doorstep. It turns out that Gleek has shared her love of tar with the two little boys next door. While we were out this morning one of them decided to leave Gleek a gift of tar.
So we’re due for another talk about tar and how we don’t pick at the tar. And we don’t make balls out of the tar. And we don’t tell our friends to do any of those things either.