10/23/2024
Please read through to the end.
When I was a young girl somewhere between the ages of seven and 10 probably, I decided I was going to run away from home.
What led up to that was that there was a drugstore about two blocks away from our house where I used to ride my bike or walk to almost daily and at that drugstore I saw a model of a collie - you know the kind you put together and paint. My dad and I used to put together model ships and planes and so I had found something that I could do myself.
Well, my mother didn’t want me to buy that even though I was going to “pay with my allowance which I had saved up.” So I decided that I was going to run away from home.
My mom didn’t help me pack, but she sort of stood by and just chilled while I got my little suitcase out in my bedroom and started putting things in it. It wasn’t very big and the more I started getting ready to leave, the fewer things I actually put in the suitcase.
I had already devised an alternative plan. I was going to walk up to the drugstore, purchase my collie and then come back to my street and walk in front of my parents’ house, back-and-forth, until they decided to take me in.
So I left the house and my mom said goodbye and I went to the drugstore and I bought my collie “with my allowance which I had saved up.” And then I started back towards their house.
By that my mom had gotten a little bit worried and sent my dad out to do recon in his car. He found me on the next block and told me to get in his car and drove me back to the house.
When we arrived, I walked into the house, and my mother stood there, looking at me and my package and asked “what’s that?” And I told her that that was the collie that I bought up at the drugstore.
“I thought I told you, you couldn’t buy that,” she said with a somewhat stern yet amused tone in her voice.
And then in what could only be defined as a perfect Art Linkletter “Kids Say the Darndest Things” moment (‘50’s TV show),
I responded perfectly seriously,
“Yes, but I didn’t belong to you then.”
I’m not sure, I don’t really remember them screaming or being punished. Maybe my parents were just trying to contain there laughter. Mom definitely let me know that she was worried about me. And I got to keep the collie model.
But here’s the point of my sharing the story today:
What kid doesn’t at some point in their life decide they’re gonna run away from home or that they hate their parents because their parents won’t let them do something they want to do?
Right now we face a very dangerous trend in our country where states are actually creating legislation to take children away from their parents based on the children wanting to have s*x changes long before they reach the age of consent.
What happens to these kids years later when they realize that decision was an impulse, they regret it and there’s nothing they can do to change it? Worse yet, they became a legal ward of the state, being ripped away from parents who loved them and cared for them and had every right to be a factor in their decisions prior to the age of consent.
This is part of an agenda being pushed on us from the left. It’s being cloaked in “gender identity rights” and “freedom of choice.”
But it’s roots go far deeper than just a philosophical movement.
Please vote early, and if you can’t vote early, get to the polls on November 5th. The future of this country depends on it. Literally.
