Got this email from a friend and thought it was great!
God bless mothers who drugged us!
The other day, someone at a store in our town read
that a methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the
adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question,
''Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?''
I replied: I had a drug problem when I was young:
I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for
weddings and funerals.
I was drug to family reunions and community socials
no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to
adults.
I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my
parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my
best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth
washed out with soap if I uttered a profane four-letter word.
I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and
flower beds and cockleburs out of dad's fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and
neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood; and, if my mother had
ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins; and they affect my behavior in
everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than
cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, maybe if today's children had this kind of drug
problem, America would be a better place.
~author unknown~
God bless mothers who drugged us!
The other day, someone at a store in our town read
that a methamphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the
adjoining county and he asked me a rhetorical question,
''Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?''
I replied: I had a drug problem when I was young:
I was drug to church on Sunday morning. I was drug to church for
weddings and funerals.
I was drug to family reunions and community socials
no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to
adults.
I was also drug to the woodshed when I disobeyed my
parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my
best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth
washed out with soap if I uttered a profane four-letter word.
I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and
flower beds and cockleburs out of dad's fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and
neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood; and, if my mother had
ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins; and they affect my behavior in
everything I do, say, and think. They are stronger than
cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, maybe if today's children had this kind of drug
problem, America would be a better place.
~author unknown~
