In response to this and inspired by a post from the lovely Alex.
Proverb 29:15 Thy rod and reproof give wisdom, but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame.
Vienna Sausages do not remind me of well-behaved puppies begging for a belly rub, nor of happy little hippos eager for a bite, nor of baby birds waiting for their mom.
They remind me more of two children walking home from school, in those days when even first graders walked the streets unchaperoned, to a house that wasn't theirs, to an 'aunt' without a sibling, to a meal that wasn't warm, to endless hours sitting on a couch watching a TV...waiting for their mom.
I find it strange what we reject from our childhood, and what fills us with jealous reminiscing. When depressed, I can go through a can of these sausages in moments. They remind me of being carried, asleep, over a shoulder, to a car, and home. Television, on the other hand, reminds me of waiting, of being quiet, of cigarette smoke from strangers, and of that sad time of day when the light fades into evening, and your sister's head begins its slow, sleepy cascade upon your shoulder.
I'm sure I'm the only person in the world who adores Vienna Sausages and detests television.
In response to this.
Proverb 13:24 He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.
I feel the need to boast a little in light of Brandon McFarland's reminiscing about how much his father cared for him. My own father also showed me how much he cared for me with a leather belt, but took it a step further. He also cared for my mother enough to beat her when she deserved it. I wonder, Brandon, when your beloved father starts to misbehave in his old age will you care enough for him to strike him with your belt? Because I'll admit, I've been looking forward for years to spending that kind of quality time with my old man.
Apparently I'm the only person in the world who adores his own son and detests spending time with him.
In response to this.
Only behind the screen do most people encourage unbridled joy among our children. It doesn't work that way in real life. It's far more accepting to complain about children laughing too loudly, smiling too much, running around undisciplined by parents who have lost all control. In reality, most adults would rather see children locked up than to miss one word from the terrific script that is Deuce Bigalow II: European Gigolo.
The next time a kid is laughing too loudly in the theater, I want you to tell yourself, 'Jeez, what horrible parents, letting that kid enjoy life like that. They're the morons, and not me for paying $9 for a goddamn movie ticket that will help ensure 6 more months of enduring Lindsay Lohan's weight loss files on ET.' And when the girl you're with looks at you like you're a heartless bastard, correct her by saying, 'I do so have a heart. See? It's this shiny little black thing right here. See how nice a reflection it casts?'
Oh, and by the way, I know you think I'm a hypocrite cause in the theater I was the guy who kept yelling 'Shhh!' and 'Be Quiet!, but if you must know, I was actually talking to the screen.
For the record, I'm not insensitive to folks who are like, 'Oh, jeez, now come on, there, Brandon, people shouldn't have to put up with spoiled brats running around screaming and breaking stuff.'
The problem is, I honestly think that children SHOULD be able to run around screaming their heads off like they got no discipline. Why the hell not? God help me if I ever imagine my day has been ruined by a disabled kid laughing too loudly. God help this kid and his miserable little life, in spite of Proverbs 22:15, ‘Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him.’
But I'm sure I'm the only person in the world who adores God and detests the Bible.
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