Youth With Too Much Power

I receive, from my home town church back in N.D., the newsletter that is mailed out each month. In it this time was a very cute short story. I felt compelled to include it in my blog for you. It really gives you something to ponder.
In today's society, our children have more power than they should. Threatening their own parents, who try to discipline them, by simply saying they will call Social Services, is one example. There is a terrible lack of respect by the youngsters we see now. It seems they get to do anything they want to. I'm appalled, sometimes, by how parents think that by just scolding their children verbally is enough. When I grew up, (my siblings can attest to this!) a good strong wooden spoon on the backside definitely made you remember not to misbehave. Sometimes it took more than one occasion to get it into our brains! ;) But it is a memory to this day. I wish today's parents would use the same type of discipline on their own children. It would surely make a difference on how they behave!
Here is the excerpt.

Different Drug Problem
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The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a Methamphetamine Lab had been found in an old farmhouse in the adjoining county. So he asked me a rhetorical question, "Why didn't we have a drug problem when you and I were growing up?"
I replied, "I had a "drug" problem when I was young. I was "drug" to church on Sunday morning. I was "drug" to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.
I was "drug" by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also "drug" to the woodshed when I disobeyed my parents, told a lie, brought home a bad report card, did not speak with respect, spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or if I didn't put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me. I was "drug" to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity. I was "drug" out to pull weeds in Mom's garden and flowerbeds and cockle burs out of Dad's fields. I was "drug" to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, repair the clothesline, or chop some firewood, and, if my Mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have "drug" me back to the woodshed."

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 heroine; and, if today's children had this kind of "drug" problem, we might all be better off.

God bless the parents who "drugged" us!

Author unknown