Hard Times!

Since my last post, people that know me personally have been calling me a liar. "Grampy," they say, "you only have 2 kids." Technically this true. The only kids that survived are Chuckles and Denny. Back fifty years ago, our farm fell on hard times. It all stemmed from my childhood.

Every winter, my daddy would sit around the house grousing that there was nothing to do because nothing would grow during a New York winter. Well my Momma looked up at him from her ironing (she took in laundry jobs during the winter since daddy did not have any work to do) and suggested that he invent a type of plant that would grow during the cold winter.

This idea stuck to daddy like a bug on a windshield. For the next ten years until his tragic death, he worked on inventing a good winter crop. He would spent hours and hours tinkering out in the barn. At first all he worked with were seeds, but after awhile he built a neat contraption. I am not sure how it helped, but every once in a while daddy would take some liquid from the spout and drink it. Daddy was happiest on those nights, and I always had to do extra milking on those nights for some reason.

Well move forward twenty years, and daddy had been gone for ten years, and momma had been in the state pen for the last nine. One day, out of the blue a travelling salesman stopped by my farm selling some seeds. I am not one to tolerate such rabble, but since my wife was currently giving birth to kid 6, I was pretty bored, so I talked with him.

Turns out fate's ugly sister was hiding in that salesman. He was selling winter tomatoes. He guaranteed that we could enjoy and sell a scrumptious crop of tomatoes all winter long. Well seeing my chance to fulfill my daddy's destiny, I went down to the bank and withdrew all our savings. I figured by spring we would be in high cotton.

Turns out, this guy was a sham. We did not get a single tomato that winter. At first I thought maybe the animals were getting the plants, so I had my wife stand guard out their all night. Turns out it was not the animals. My wife donated three of her fingers to that project through frostbite.

Well needless to say, with the wife's fingers starting to rot, and no money for food, we were pretty desperate. So, I went into New York City looking for solutions. While there I met a nice man who told me about a market where you can buy and sell people. Eureka! Now you know why I am such a strong proponent for many children.

I loaded up the two oldest girls the next day (the manager told me they bring the highest price) and took them to market. It was really quite an exciting adventure. I cleared enough that sale to survive the winter. Next winter I sold two more girls, and we were living pretty well.

By this time we had our two additional kids and the baby factory had gone offline. We we now had four boys. Two were a little sickly, and two were quite healthy. Altogether, a fine crop. Well the following winter, the two healthy ones had to go as well.

After that, all that were left were chuckles and denny. We kept them, and they turned out ok. I often wonder whatever became of the other 6. I also wonder how much we could have made had the baby factory kept on working.

Wives!

Unless you are some modern, politically correct homo, you know what the bible says about wives and their duties. However, due to modern brainwashing, many women have forgotten what this looks like. Every time my wife violates one of these rules, I train her. The way I train her is I only respond to her if she calls me Mr. Martin for a week. This teaches her proper respect. So what are these rules of wifely etiquette?

There are only two basic functions required of a wife, and neither one requires thinking. This is a good thing, because as we know most women are a little light in that area anyway. The two basic functions are breeding and feeding, and by feeding I mean serving her husband.

The good Lord created them to pop out as many kids as we want, and they should do it without complaining. My good wife managed a paltry 8 kids before her baby machine broke. (Tip for youngsters: I do not advise suggesting to your wife that you take a mistress on the side as a backup baby machine, for some reason this causes them to cry for a while. Crying causes tears which make the food taste too salty)

Serving is where good wives are separated from average wives. An average wife cooks a variety of food prepared at the same time each evening and served to her husband at the dinner table. A good wife has the husband's favorite food prepared for him the second he comes in from the barn no matter what time it is. She also waits to eat to ensure there is enough for him to be satisfied. One time, when my wife was on a particularly good stretch of behavior, she served me fried possum and gravy for 15 days straight. It was sad that on the fifteenth day she did not realize that this was not my favorite food anymore. The next week it was Mr. Martin all week long.

Yes wives can be fantastic once they are trained properly.

Childhood

Parents these days do not know how to discipline thier kids. My daddy knew how to discipline. The trick to keeping kids in thier place is random discipline. Give the kids an occasional beating when they least expect it. Sometimes, even when they do something good, send them to thier room for a spanking this will keep them on thier toes.

My dad was an expert at this. Every so often, when I was around seven or eight years old, I would finish up with my evening milking early. With joy I would run to the house and run around inside looking for a mom and daddy and calling thier name. After a few minutes of this, my dad would come out of the bedroom in his underwear and his belt in his hand. Daddy's pants must have been way too big, because for some reason they must have fallen completely off when daddy took his belt off. Anyway, daddy gave me the lickin of my life for doing such a good job milking the cows. After he was done, he told me to stop crying and to go remilk the cows. I never did find Mommy, and cows had no more milk to give.

My daddy was a very smart man, an hour later when I came back in the house with no milk, daddy was in a much better mood, and he did not even beat me for not getting any more milk. Boy was I confused, and this is how daddy kept me on my toes.

grampy loves you

Grampy sometimes give advice that others do not like, but this is only out of love!