A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger

who was new to our small town. From the beginning,

Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer

and soon invited him to live with our family. The

stranger was quickly accepted and was around

from then on.

As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my

family. In my young mind, he had a special niche.

My parents were complementary instructors: Mom

taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey.

But the stranger... he was our storyteller. He would

keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures,

mysteries and comedies.

If I wanted to know anything about politics, history

or science, he always knew the answers about the past,

understood the present and even seemed able to predict

the future! He took my family to the first major league

ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The

stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem

to mind.

Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of

us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to

say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet.

(I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions,

but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them.

Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home - not

from us, our friends or any visitors.. Our long time visitor,

however, got away with four-letter words that burned my

ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush.

My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol but the

stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made

cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.

He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments

were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally

embarrassing..

I now know that my early concepts about relationships were

influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he

opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked

.... And NEVER asked to leave.

More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved

in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly

as fascinating as he was at first.Still, if you could walk into

my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over

in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and

watch him draw his picture

His name?....We just call him 'TV.'

(Note: This should be required reading for every household!)

He has a wife now....we call her 'Computer.'

Their first child is "Cell Phone".

Second child "I Pod "

And JUST BORN THIS YEAR WAS a Grandchild: IPAD

OH MY----HOW TRUE THIS IS!!!

ที่มา: อีเมล์ส่งต่อ
วันที่โพสต์: 3/02/2557 เวลา 07:45:07

แสดงความคิดเห็น

รอตรวจสอบ
จัดฟอร์แม็ต ดูการแสดงผล

รอตรวจสอบ

รอตรวจสอบ

รอตรวจสอบ

ยกเลิก

รายละเอียดกระทู้

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger... he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies. If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind. Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.) Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home - not from us, our friends or any visitors.. Our long time visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush. My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.. I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked .... And NEVER asked to leave. More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first.Still, if you could walk into my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his picture His name?....We just call him 'TV.' (Note: This should be required reading for every household!) He has a wife now....we call her 'Computer.' Their first child is "Cell Phone". Second child "I Pod " And JUST BORN THIS YEAR WAS a Grandchild: IPAD OH MY----HOW TRUE THIS

จัดฟอร์แม็ตข้อความและมัลติมีเดีย

  1. เพิ่ม
  2. เพิ่ม ลบ
  3. เพิ่ม ลบ
  4. เพิ่ม ลบ
  5. เพิ่ม ลบ
  6. เพิ่ม ลบ
  7. เพิ่ม ลบ
  8. เพิ่ม ลบ
  9. เพิ่ม ลบ
  10. ลบ
เลือกการตกแต่งที่ต้องการ

ตกลง ยกเลิก

รายละเอียดการใส่ ลิงค์ รูปภาพ วิดีโอ เพลง (Soundcloud)

Waiting...