Drugs and Kids

Comment: I just love this.

GOD BLESS THE PARENTS 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 profanity.

   I was drug out to pull weeds in mom's garden and flowerbeds and
   cocklebur's 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, or think. They are stronger than cocaine,
   crack, or heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug
   problem, America would be a better place.

   God bless the parents who drugged us.