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Posted on 2012.10.22 at 04:43
Currently Feeling: sillysilly

It was an otherwise quiet, somewhat dreary day, the first day of fall cool enough to justify starting a fire in the fireplace.  I was doing homework when my mother slammed open my bedroom door. “Well what do you have to say for yourself this time young lady?” she asked as she barged into my room.

Now, Momma did this from time to time, interrupt suddenly with no context as to what she was talking about, so while this wasn’t as startling as it could have been, I still had no clue what she meant.  “What are you talking about, Momma?”

“I found this in your backpack!” she exclaimed, brandishing a paperback book.  “Is this the sort of filth young people are reading these days?  This smut, this rubbish?  Well I certainly won’t have it under my roof!”

“What? Momma, that’s for school!”

“Well I hardly believe that!” she declared as she started striding back towards the living room, waving her trophy around wildly, me following frantically behind, trailing across the house.  “But I’ll certainly be having a word with your teacher nevertheless.  Children your age shouldn’t even have access to such garbage.  Obviously she isn’t assigning you enough work if you have time to waste filling your head with dreck.” 

“Momma, no!” I cried futilely, as she threw the book into the already crackling fireplace.

“And let that be a lesson to you!  I won’t tolerate you reading such smut in my house!”  I barely heard her rants as she stormed off, as I stared sadly at my copy of A Good Man is Hard to Find now smoldering contentedly behind the grate.  How was I going to explain this one to my teacher?

Author’s note: uhh, for anyone still confused, obviously the mom confused the book with its sequel, A Hard Man is Good to Find. ;)

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