My brothers and I were not easy children to raise. Not that we tortured small animals or went to the slammer or anything. We were just...ummm.....in Dr James Dobson's words "strong willed." Each of us marched to a different drummer at our own pace and most of the time that wreaked havoc for Janice Ann, the SuperMom. You know how some families have the "good child" and the "bad child". Let's just say she had three very different "mischievous" children to keep up with.

Living in the country provided more than the usual number of ways to get our butts in a crack. Fire was a big fascination for all of us. We burned the trash in a barrel, and one day the elder boy and "middle child" decided to make a flag out of a burning sheet. He dipped it out of the barrel on the end of a stick and was waving it around wildly when it landed on his arm. YOWZA. Another time, he and baby boy were playing in a cotton trailer and it was mysteriously set on fire. Guess who bailed and left the baby boy in the burning trailer! When I was a pre-teen I set my bulletin board in fire IN MY ROOM just to see how quick it would go up. Hmm..and I was a Jr Fire Marshal and everything!

The cattle were not only our bread and butter but a great source of amusement for bored country kids. On the day I decided to run away from home to the back pasture ( complete with suitcase packed with pics of the family ) my cousin Deb and brothers followed me to make sure I got settled into my new "home" okay. It only took an hour or so of the heat to change my mind. As we headed back to the house Debbie thought it would be fun to stir the cows up a bit. She stripped off her red top and stood on a fencepost waving it wildly. Let's just say you've never seen kids run so fast in your life as we did when those cows got after us.
I beat Bubba's tail in the barn, and he paid me back by chasing me with a butcher knife. Tommy picked the lock on my bedroom door with a bobby pin time and time again just to hear me squeal. There was never a dull moment.

One of the things I respect the most about my Mom is that she never tried to force me to be something that I wasn't. When I passed on joining the high school sorority of which she had been president, she supported my decision. My quirks, while not particularly endearing, were what made me who I was and she was proud of that. Still is to this day. The only time I ever remember gettin' my smart mouth slapped was when I was around 14 and I deserved it. The rest of the time she let it roll off her back with the patience of a saint.

Around the age or 13 or so, I got the bright idea to sneak out and meet an older boy. I hadn't been out of the house very long when I saw the lights come on and I knew I was busted. After stealing a few smooches and concocting a big tale about "night jogging" I came back in to find Mom sitting on the couch waitin' for me. Daddy was out looking for me and we sat in silence until he got back. He walked in with his head down low, and said " I couldn't find her." When he looked up he spotted me sitting there and began to cry. I have never felt so small or so bad in my entire life. And I never did it again. Thus began the joke between Grandma and BabyGirl around the age of 10. Mom would smile real big and say " Now, honey....whenever you get ready to crawl out that window, you just call Memaw and I'll bring you a ladder!."
Did I mention she's got a great sense of humor too?