Ma-Maw and the Great Wall Pee Caper

                            Ma-Maw and the Great Wall Pee Caper

     Stop the presses! Call the White House! We need a joint session of Congress! What is it? Has ISIS invaded Arizona? Did the Ebola virus explode in New York City? Did Osama pop up on some late night talk show? No! Something much more serious than that. Adrian Peterson whipped his kid! Top story on ABC news this morning. I crapith thee not! Right above ISIS, a 7.1 earthquake, and some nut trying to swim to North Korea to meet that little fat guy that runs the place. And what made it worse, he used a SWITCH! There was even a picture showing the little tyke's stripped up butt. The nation is horrified.  I'm surprised Obama didn't make a speech from the rose garden. "If I had a son he'd look like him." (If your grandma had switched YOUR tail maybe we wouldn't be in this mess "Mr" President!)

     I'm a simple ol' boy from Austin, but I was born a simple ol' baby from Shreveport! And I had a "Ma-Maw." Now, my Ma-Maw  was a real grandmother.  She had a long dress, and her grey hair twisted into a very tight bun on top of her head. She also had a yard full of willow trees. Willow trees are unique. The branches are smooth, and you can peel the bark off with just stripping and rubbing it down with one master stroke. And they're flexible. More like a buggy whip than a branch. And they make that "whistle-whistle" sound you get when you swing it around. 

     When I was about three we had a little fat dog called Maybelline. I thought she was a pig. I don't mean she was just fat, I mean in my three year old reasoning, since dad got her at a pig farm, she simply must be a REAL pig! Anyway, Ma-Maw's house was one of those houses where there was this long hallway right down the center, leading from the front door going all the way to the bathroom in the back, and yes, we had ONE bathroom. The walls were covered with this paper-thin wall paper, printed with flowers and stuff. The color scheme was drab, but then everything was drab in 1950's Louisiana. I don't think I could even see color until about 1961.

     There was a "potty" situated right beside the commode in the bathroom. Y'all see what a memory I've got? I can remember being POTTY trained! Well, I deduced that the journey all the way from the front of the house to the potty in the rear of the house was just too darned FAR! So, one day, about half way down the hall I came upon a plan. I've always been ahead of the curve, and that day was no exception. When in doubt, whip it out! I figured that since the wall paper was so ugly anyway that no one would notice if I peed on it a little. Not a big pee, just a little down there around the baseboard. 

     Along about that time here came Ma-Maw walking down the hall, returning from the kitchen. I'm standing there, with my pants already up, a little puddle on the wall, dribbling down round the floor, and Maybelline right beside me with her tongue hanging out, and this stupid grin on her face. Ma-maw never was one to dilly-dally around. She took one look at that dog, and then me, reached down, picked up a piece of unused floorboard about ten inches long or so, grabbed Maybelline by her little screw tail, and began to wail and wallop her on her fat little butt! Maybelline's eyes purt near popped out of her obese little head, and she DID pee on the floor then, which only increased the whipping exponentially. Now, you're three years old, in Shreveport, Louisiana, it's 1954, no TV, no air conditioning, and only one old woman for a friend...THAT'S ENTERTAINMENT! 

     When it was all over,  Maybelline was yelping down the hall, and out the back door, Ma-maw returned to the kitchen where she made coffee and gave me a little cup. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but that's what Ma-Maws did back in those days. The next day things were getting boring sooooooo...little more pee, little bit higher, little bigger butt-stomping, and a happy three year old! I can't remember if I did it every day or just whenever the urge struck me, but I did figure out that there was a direct coralation between the height of the pee, and the force applied to Maybelline's butt, so one day I decided to arrange the ultimate. I peed WAY over my head, all OVER the wall. In my heart or hearts I knew Ma-maw would most likely kill Maybelline, but no problem, daddy would just go out to the pig farm and fetch another. 

     When my grandmother saw the wall she looked down at Maybelline. The poor dog just laid there, quivering, accepting her death. Ma-maw picked her up by her pig tail, and began to try matching  her butt up with the water on the wall. I have to give Ma-Maw credit. She tried mightily to match Maybelline's butt with the height of that pee, but at the point where she was actually lifting the little fat dog OFF the floor, and realized the critter would have to levitate to achieve such a feat, she set gently  down, and went to the willow tree in the back yard. When she returned she had a switch. Now, I'm so stupid I thought we had progressed to a new level. I stood there, waiting to see the execution, until she grabbed my left arm and picked ME up off the floor. Kids back then wore these little shorts, exposing the legs quite well. It's been over sixty years, and I can still remember the precise moment that willow switch connected with my dangling little legs. All the air escaped from my lungs, and I went into one of those attempts to cry, you know, the one where it hurts so bad you CAN'T cry? You try to run at times like that, but that don't work either.

     When it was all over I was on the floor, with Maybelline sitting there beside me, her tongue protruding out of her fat little mouth, and I swear there was actually a smile on her face! Ma-Maw marched off to the kitchen to make coffee, and I lay there in the hall twitching like a pair of frog legs that got sprinkled with salt. I feel it important to tell you that I never peed on the wall again!