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by Doralee Binkman in space #61
I can't believe my kid got 86'ed from Sunday School.
All she did was scribble on a wall with a marker pen. That ain't
so bad.
I just wanted to learn how to be a good mama to my kid, and teach
her some morals and whatnot. In order to teach Doobie some morals, I had to learn some my ownself.
So I started going to church. Doobie's too young to sit there with me in the pew, so I
dropped her off at the Sunday School while I attended the 10:30 service.
When I returned to pick my kid up at noon, all Hell had broke loose.
Doobie was standing by a wall with marker-pen scribbles on it, and a bunch of marker-pen scribbles
on her skin and Sunday dress, to boot.
The Sunday School teacher went batshit and hollered Shakespearean
epithets like, "Fie, fie, fie upon thee, heathen!" at Doobie, and calling her a demon child
and accusing her of blaspheming in Sunday School. All Doob did to deserve that tirade was scribble
on the fucking wall with marker pens. That's nothing. Lulu's kid Damian smears his own shit on the
walls.
When I told that buckwild Sunday School teacher that ain't no way
to talk around a two-year-old girl and to shut the fuck up, she accused ME of being the devil
in drag. Of all the nerve. I picked up the Doobster and ran from that church like my ass was on fire and
my hair was catching. I never been so insulted in all my life. Doobie might have got banned from
church forever, but I ain't never going back there, neither. What a evil place.
Before I ran out the door with my sobbing, marker-pen-stained kid,
I took out my digital camera and shot a photo of the wall Doobie scribbled on. Yes, she did take
up quite a bit of space on that wall with them marker pens, but it was all the Sunday School teacher's
fault because she should have knowed better than to go outside and smoke a whole cigarette--a
100 no less--without even looking in the door once to see what kind of trouble her pupils
was getting into.
I told Doobie's daddy Maddog what happened, and he went back to
the church. I don't know what he said to that Sunday School teacher, but later on the cops showed
up to Maddog's trailer in space #91 and served him with a restraining order. I was impressed.
I think Maddog might be the first person ever in the world to be served with a restraining order
to stay away from a church.
Doobie ain't a bad kid at all. Far as I'm concerned, she's the
best kid in the whole trailer park, and maybe even in the whole world. She started walking at seven months,
and two months later taught herself how to use the toilet, and then how to read so's she'd have
something to DO on the toilet. She toddles across the driveway and plays on Eddie and Arliss' computer
every day, so I can drink as much hooch as I want and not have to keep a eye on her.
Compare that to my roommate Lulu's kid. If you take your eyes off
him for one second, Damian flushes anything that will fit down the toilet. And he's tried to
flush a bunch of stuff that DIDN'T fit. I can't even count how many times I've come home and found
the whole hallway flooded because of that brat's toilet fixation.
Not only ain't Damian housebroke, but if his mama or someone don't
change him right away after he does his business, he'll reach into the back of his diaper and smear
his own shit all over the walls as high as he can reach.
All Doobie did was scribble marker pens all over the wall at Sunday
School. Imagine how that teacher would have reacted to Damian's idea of decorating the wall.

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