Discussions

A e-mail I rec'd and all to true.....  
 
 
The other day, someone in the store at our town read that a methaphetamine lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county and asked me a rhetorical question...Why didn't we have a drug problem when we were growing up?  
 
I replied, I had a drug problem when I was young: I was drug to church on Sunday mornings. I was drug to church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to family reunions and community socials, no matter what 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 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 moms garden and flower beds. I was drug to the homes of family, friends and neighbors to help some poor soul who had no one to mow their lawn, repair their 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.  
 
God bless the parents who drugged us!