Drug Problem

I hope my kids are able to say this about Mike and I when they are older:

"The other day, someone at a store in our town read that a Meth amphetamine lab had been found in an old house in the adjoining county and 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 church for weddings and funerals. I was drug to my siblings sporting events and community socials no matter what the weather. I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults. I was also drug to my bedroom 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 and pick up dog poop in the front and back yards. I was drug to the homes of friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to mow the yard, or shovel the snow; 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 my bedroom. 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 heroin; and, if today's children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place. God bless the parents who drugged us."