Have you ever been somehwere so nasty that the “ick” factor made you gag? Did your best friend help you through it?
The preachers kid is an expert in non-verbal communication. Unfortunately, the signals may be ignored and disaster results…..painfully.
There’s a fine line between running for your life and outright panic. I always seemed to be doing one or the other.
Covid-19 made me face my own possible death. I’d always been able to avoid facing my own mortality.
It was later reported that my wife’s exact words were “Where in the… %^)*_&$… is John?” She was very eloquent on special occasions.
The dispatcher called on the radio and reported that there was a burglar alarm going off at a house west of town.
A little bit is good, but more is better………Right? Especially when it comes to fire…………..or was that ice cream?
Friday afternoon in high school was a time of great anticipation. The weekend was almost there and plans had to be made.
I was headed to college unbeknownst to my parents.
I left momma begging me to save her.
Jumping from the parsonage roof with a homemade parachute couldn’t possibly end badly. Could it?
The happy camper found that her words were trajically prophetic.
As a Park Ranger, I had to be ready for just about anything. It could be about camping fees or some type of serious criminal act.
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Dad was a Christ-loving pacifist. That was the only reason I lived to reach the age of 18.
The crash of glass was heard as I tried to make it through the door.
The security guard at St Francis Hospital challenged dad to prove he was a minister.
Dad had a drinking problem that caused shame, anger, and embarrassment as a minister.
An angel on my bumper was the one thing I could give the retired preacher when he was close to death.
Dad bought Spumoni ice cream which, as a child, I decided was torture.
I went at the other boy like a spider monkey on a sugar high, but Dad had a different idea.
That toy truck flew like a rocket when we put the electricity to it. And nearly killed the neighbor doing it.
Mother scarred me for life when she had me wear second-hand girls clothing and tried to convince me they were boys clothes.
I snuck away from a church picnic to slide down the spillway at the lake and nearly killed myself in the process.
Playing firefighter in the parsonage got too real when my plan went awry.
We launched a tire from the roof of the parsonage during a church ladies meeting. Someone thought a dead body had fallen.
Exploring the church crawlspace on a secret mission. We thought we’d been successful until unforeseen circumstances intervened.
I was ashamed by my first name until I found out the wonderful story of my namesake. Now just call me Lou.
I will confess to painting on the wall of the church, but will claim that I have a defense. My little sister talked me into it.
Preachers kids have the reputation of being ornery or trouble makers. They are on view for the world to see and expected to be angels. Sometimes they aren’t.