In
being perfectly honest about myself I often admit that I wasn’t the best kid on
the planet. If I were Native American my name would be Runs With Scissors. I
was telling my friend that my parents believed in punishment. You know that old
adage, “This is going to hurt me more than it is going to hurt you.” Yeah, I
didn’t buy that. As for myself I didn’t turn to corporal punishment, but I was
strict and tough.
So
my friend is sitting on the other side of my desk with a pen and paper. Here is
what she wrote:
Ouch!!
I just can’t take it.
I’m the one hurting
And she’s the one crying!
She’s crying!!
And not only did she pull it,
She stripped it bare!
Ungrateful and Hateful!
And I know when it’s going to happen.
I can hear that voice “Go on, go get it.
And it better
be a good one or else.”
But why do I feel like I’m getting the “or else?”
And here she comes,
crying, and she yanks me!
That little red-headed abuser!
Oh well. . . . . maybe I will bear fruit next year.
Yup.
There was a year when the pear tree in the back yard didn’t bloom.
Ode to the Pear Tree ~ penned by Courtney Ware
