A Different Drug Problem

The other day some dude at a convenience store was reading out loud that another Meth Lab had been found in an old farm house in Granite Falls. He turned to me and asked the rhetorical question, 'Why didn't' we have drug problems when you and I were growing up?"

I told him to speak for himself, that I had a drug problem when I was young; I was drug to church on Easter and when Presidents got shot, to funerals and weddings. I was drug to family gatherings like Christmas and Thanksgiving.
I was drug by my hair when I talked back. I was also drug into my bedroom for a belt whipping when I disobeyed, told a lie, didn't do my chores, or didn't speak with respect put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.

I was drug into the bathroom to have my mouth washed out with soap if I talked back or uttered a profanity. I was drug outside to pull weeds in my moms rose garden, to rake leaves, pick up the walnuts that fell from our tree in Sacramento. I was drug to the homes of family friends to watch Superbowl football games and to my moms AA meetings.

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; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem, American would be a better place.
God Bless the parents who drugged us.