This story about drug problems has been sitting in my jokes inbox for a while waiting to see the light of day.
Actually, it’s been sitting there for about 4 years, much shorter than some of the jokes sitting in my inbox that are screaming to be published again, but I thought it was time for a bit of reflection and you will hopefully enjoy reading this.
At my 50th high school reunion a friend asked me, “Why didn’t we have a drug problem when we were growing up?”
Personally, even by the time I left high school I knew nothing of drugs. It took until my university days before I had my first experience, but that’s another story.
I replied to my friend that actually I did have 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 pastor, 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 flower beds.
- I was drug to the homes of neighbors to help mow the yard, repair the clothesline, and if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, my dad 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, this country would be a better place.
God bless the parents who drugged us, and for those that didn’t, I’m really sorry.
Image used under a Collective Commons License from https://pixabay.com/photos/medical-tablets-burnout-exhausted-4284012/
