Y'all knew Doreen was coming. Well, she brung some of her grandkids with her. She must have a dozen or so, but she only brung four. Two, was her son, Randolph's boys--eight and six years old. They was pretty good. But her daughter Mildred's little girl cried the whole time she was here. She kept wanting something more than she got and the way I looked at she got more than she deserved. Now, her son, Lyndolph's boy warn't nothing but trouble. His name was Buster. That ought to tell you something. He tore up more stuff than you would believe. He even brung in the house a painted board he pulled off the barn. I was just about to give him what-for when Doreen taken him in to the front bedroom and whooped him good. He straightened out a little bit after that, but he ain't coming back if I can help it. Hollis and Dorothy had got gifts for all of 'em and the oldest two boys appreciated theirs. Even told me thank you. That little girl was whining even as they left. And Buster tore his clean up before he could even play with it. I'm telling you that boy could tear up a iron ball.
Tomorrow: What Dorothy Give Me
Hollis' funny name of the day:
Dwayne D. Poole is a spoilsport
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