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DRUG PROBLEM ANSWER

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 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, 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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