I need to touch on something that seems to apply to kids
of all ages....Have you ever noticed how the bathroom
seems to be a big attraction ONLY when mom is in it???
Boy I have!!!! *smile* Whether they are crawling or as
old as 21 (my oldest child) they still want the bathroom when
mom is in it!!! It doesn't matter what time of day it is,
or what your doing in there!!! THEY WANT TO KNOW!!!
*grin* I have found a rather unique piece about this
bathroom thing, written by a mom....
Boy does it ring true!!!
This is a sign that a mom wrote up and attached to the bathroom
door for her OLDER children to read while she was in there.
"The Meanest Mother"
Written By Bobby Pigaro - 1967
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to eat cereal, eggs, or toast. As you can guess, my supper was different from the other kids' also. But at least I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and my two brothers had the same mean mother as I did. My mother insisted upon knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were on a chain gang. She had to know whoj our friends were and where we were going. She insisted if we said were would be gone for an hour that we be gone for one hour or less, not one hour and one minute. I am nearly ashamed to admit, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time we had a mind of our own and did as we pleased. That poor belt was used more on our seats than it was to hold up daddy's pants. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really was. We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other kids always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself just to save money. Why oh why did we have to have a mother who made us feel different from our friends? The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed each night by nine and up by eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep til noon like our friends. So while they slept -- my mother actually had the nerve to break the child labor law. She made us work! We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook, and all sorts of cruel things. I beleive she laid awake in bed at night thinking up mean things to do to us. She always insisited on telling us the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us. By the time we were teenagers, she was much wiser, and our life became even more unbearable. NOne of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us to know end by naking our friends and dates come to the door to get us. If I spent the night with a girlfriend, can you imagine that she actually called to see if I was really there? I never had the chance to elope to Mexico. That os if I had a boyfriend to elope with. I forgot to mention that while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 and 13, my old fashioned mother rerused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that is only if you dated to go to school functions. And that was maybe twice a year. Through the years things didn't improve much. We could not lie in bed "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache, a hang nail, or other serious ailment, they could stay home from school. Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends report cards had beautiful colors on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks. As the years rolled by, first one, then the others of us were put to shame. We were graduated from highschool. With our mother behind us, hitting and demanding respect, none of us was allowed the pleasure of being a dropout. My mother was a complete failure as a mother. Out of four children, a couple of us attained some higher education. None of us have ever been arrested, divorced, or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in the service of this country. And whom to we have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You're right, our mean mother. Look at the things we missed. We never got to march in a protest parade, not to take part in a riot, burn draft cards, and a million and one things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing, educated, honest adults. Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my three children. I stand a little taller and i am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, he gave me the meanest mother in the world.
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© Designs By GoldenRose - 2000