In the late 70’s my family went to the poor house and they didn’t take me. I hadn’t a clue, and my Mother told me my car was too dented to go as she didn’t want the neighbors thinking any the worse. It must have been the worse because when I came home from school they were gone. Not a word of farewell, no wonder I had an inferiority complex. I was even too inferior to go to the poor house.
Hey wait this is the potato famine story.
This reminds me of a favorite song “and when the taters need spraying, I bet you’re praying the bugs jump off the vine and when you go fishing I bet your praying the fish don’t bite your line.”
If they came back they would gloat and gloat because they were right. just laying in the sun. Just laying in the shade. How was I gonna get my cornmeal make. This is an oxymoron because it comes in a box.
I learned to swim backwards. I could make a quick spin and I was first in line.
Never make a cent, didn’t hear a word I’d say. That’s WHAT Jeannie AND mom WOULD SAY. I might be a lot younger but I know a cent ain’t even worth a dime, because Mac Donald’s never charges the penny. And I learned playing deaf is a lot of fun. Just remember keep that glazed dazed look on your face and you got it made.