As a parent of two little ones- I am always cognizant that the apple doesnt fall too far from the tree. I was raised in a fairly strict home- at the time I thought it was terrible, but it has helped me to become a socially well adjusted and responsible citizen. I hope to do the same for my kids. I try to always remember to be the parent and raise my children- not the gubment, not the schools, not some namby pamby soft belly psychologist... Im not one to post the email chains- but this one really was ironic. I had a drug problem when I was younger- and well now my kids do too!!!
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The other day, someone at the 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 any profanity. I was drug out to pull weed in my mother'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. If my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back out to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins, they still affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin. If today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God Bless the parents who "drugged" us.
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The other day, someone at the 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 any profanity. I was drug out to pull weed in my mother'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. If my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back out to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins, they still affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think. They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin. If today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God Bless the parents who "drugged" us.
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