My tongue was a different colour every other day for more than two weeks that summer. The day I saw that jawbreaker I knew I had to get it. It was HUGE! Talk about bang for your buck or quarter as the case may be. I was so excited when Mom let me get it. All the way home in the car all you could hear was me gleefully sloppy-slurping that enormous orb. It nearly made my mother lose her mind (she not being a fan of sloppy-slurping or multi-coloured tongue and lips) but not as much as the sticky, sugary mess that was left on my bed-stand every night for two weeks. It must’ve taken every shred of her self control not to go into anti-germ clean freak mode. But she didn’t.
The childhood memory of that gargantuan jawbreaker stays with me even now. Not the taste so much, more the sheer carefree giddy way that circus-coloured ball of candy made me feel. A feeling that the world was thrilling and fascinating and needed to be tasted, seen, explored. For example, it made me want to know how one creates such a monumentally massive globe of mouth-watering perfection.