Some years ago I worked with a wonderful woman who was filled with good common knowledge. One of the things she used to tell me was that no good deed goes unpunished. She also used to tell me that when raising children you have to be fearless and frightful. Ms. Gwen being Cajun through and through would look me in the eye and say “Cher, you must make dem chillirn dink you are Gawd and de Debil all rolled into one. Dey must believe dat when dey ire you up that hell will reign down on dem and dat chu are der only savior.” She should know, she raised four girl chillirn all by herself.
She demonstrated what she meant by telling me this story of her most difficult child. She told me the story just this way. (Read the story with a Cajun accent. Oh come on Cher you can do eet.)
When my Moyen enfant (middle child) was about fourteen she decided she would run amok. She began to steal away in de middle of the night. She would skip school and go to a boyfriends house. They would lay up all de day and I would be out of my mind looking for her. I would run my chapelet (rosary)and say my prayers. She would stay out all day and all night. I would put her wee soeurs (sisters) into de car and we would drive around town looking for her. I would cry and pray dat I would find her walking home or at an amie’s (friend’s) house. Only I never did.
Then one day de school called me and told me she once again missed her classes. She did not show up at home later so I went looking for her. I drive here and I drive there. Then I remember she had a what chu call sleazy friend over in da trailer house park. I drive der and sure enough I find her laid up on de couch wit some boy. I stormed in de place and I tole her to get her butt in de car or I was gonna put it in there for her. She rared up back at me and said “I’ll just run away again, Me’re. You can not stop me.” My blood it be a boilin and my eyes were wet wit tears. I grabbed my chile up by her arm and I look her right in de face and I say “it sure is gonna be hard to run away wit two broken legs. Now get yourself in dat car.”
Dat bebe she looked at me tryin to gauge if she should run or if she should fly into dat car. She was afeared I would break her legs right there and den. I turned to dose other kids and I told dem dat I would be speakin wit their parents. Den I took my moyen enfant home. I tried talkin to her and tellin her dat what she was doin was wrong. I den did de only ding I knew to do I tole her to get me da belt. She looked at me wit big wide eyes and she said “yes ma’m”. She brought me the belt and I gave her a wallup or two. You know she never ranned away again and she never gave me no more lip from that time forward.
De moral of my story is dat butt is directly connected to dat brain.
***don't forget you can vote every day over at blogluxe. Yes I'm shamefully and unabashedly promoting myself for no monitary gain. It's an ego thing.***
June Gardens' Day Off
15 hours ago