Here is My Hillbilly's weekly contribution to the blog:
In continuing with my school memories, I thought I would talk about some of the downside of having all these different grades with different ages of children all thrown together. The downer was mostly young, heathen hillbilly children that obviously were raised in a barn!
For instance, I was never a bed wetter. I don’t ever remember having wet my pants and I never ever messed my pants. But here I am in the 2nd grade and just doing my thing. You know what I mean, things such as paying attention to my teacher and being studious. Okay! Possibly I wasn’t being all that studious and who really knows upon what I had placed my attention. At any rate, I smelled something unpleasant. I then looked around me and saw that a first grader sitting in front of me had wet her pants. Quite apparently, she was well hydrated. The pool beneath her was kind of like a small lake.
So, being a dutiful and helpful hillbilly, I went to my teacher. When she wanted to know what I wanted, I just turned and pointed to the small lake which was under the little heathen girl’s desk. And then much to my surprise, my teacher says, “Looks like (names will not be used to protect these little heathens) the nice little girl had an accident." I am thinking to myself --- accident? Tripping and falling down is an accident! Crashing a bike or a car is an accident. The little heathen girl sat there and peed her pants! That is not an accident! That is heathenism! And that stupid, small lake of pee not only stinks but it flowed to within that close to my foot. Glad I didn’t have to clean it up!
A few years later, we got this new first grader! He was a cute, round faced, likeable little boy. Unfortunately, he would habitually mess his pants! I don’t know what the little heathen ate, but in a hot, barely ventilated class room, the smell would have gagged a maggot! If I had been the teacher, I would have considered flushing him down the toilet stool!
Unfortunately all we had were these two classy, double hole out houses. You might think that they were smelly. Comparing to this little heathen, they smelled like a rose. Okay, maybe not a rose, but they smelled waaay better than he did. Since the teacher didn’t seem to be accomplishing too awfully much to de-scent the little heathen, (you know, maybe feed him some binding cheese, install a cork, etc.), I decided to take matters into my own hands. I thought that it was time that an older, proper, non-heathen hillbilly should have an educational talk with this little, stinky heathen. So one day after school, I picked him up, (should have picked him up by the ears), and carried him out towards the outhouses.
I basically explained why they had holes. I explained to him what belonged in those holes. I then went on to explain that we non-heathen hillbilly children were not only losing our patience with him but were beginning to think that he should be stuffed down one of those holes. He was very intimidated! He just grinned and thought the whole thing was funny! It was very trying! This hillbilly boy was being tempted to do physical harm to a poor, stinky, really stinky, really, really stinky heathen boy, who best I could tell, was purposely messing his pants! I didn’t kill him! I didn’t stuff him down an outhouse hole! About all I could do, was to say “Go, and poop no more!"
The little heathen actually did begin doing better! He eventually grew up to become a relatively successfully businessman. I hate to brag, but I really feel that I had a whole lot to do with his eventual success. You just gotta love that hillbilly psychology!
From the Hillbilly’s corner!
Who knew there was a hillbilly hierarchy of hygiene?
