Ever since I can remember, the 5 little girls of our family would say our good-nights to daddy, then several minutes later run into mama and daddy's room, jump on the bed, clamoring for daddy to tell us a story about "when you were little".
I am sure he was always tired an had a long day of work in front of him, but, he would laugh and say "That sounds like it might be too far and snaky for tonight". After more pleas, he would settle down for 10, 15, sometimes 30 minutes, and let his deep rumbling voice, echo the things of his past, telling us story after story about when he was little. We were always entranced, even if we had heard it for the 20th time.
One familiar tale, he told us again tonight.
"You know, they always say that preacher's kids are the worst but...
I always say its because they leaned it from the deacon's kids. Well, any way
I was one of the worst of the preacher's kids. I remember one Sunday an old lady
who always wore her pink hat, shook her purse at me and told me brusquely that I
just like to show out. Well, I decided to show her. That Sunday, while my
daddy was preaching, I crawled under all of the pews, under the lady's skirts
and around the men's shoes and went into the bathroom.
Back then you know, all the men wore hats and left them in hooks in the bathroom.
Well, I switched all the hats and threw the cigars out the window. Just about that time,
my DADDY walks in and takes off his skinny little belt about .. ----- yea long
and worked me over real good ...Then he just went back to preaching... "
As we have grown older, we have all created our inlets of social media and social lives, some of the little girls have gotten married and are having little girls of their own. But in the last several months, we at home, have been reviving the tradition.
And tonight, the dishes were piled high, my room was in the midst of the re-organizational frenzy ... So when daddy said good night, I hesitated for a moment but rounded up the two sisters left at home and said "let's get daddy to tell us about when he was little.... It's worth ten minutes"
And truly, listening to his rumbling warm voice, I was assured..
It's worth ten minutes