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Brothers and Sisters in Christ -
As you know, I was raised in a good Christian orphanage. Once I was 16, the orphanage employed me in helping raise up other children fortunate enough to have their God-hating parents smitten.
A short while ago, I was offered a job as a governess at a fine estate. I did not get to meet the parents until I'd arrived, but Jo, their head of household, seemed a competent (if rather short-haired and dominant) Christian woman, and their 9-year-old boy seemed well-behaved and appropriately dressed. The pay offered was adequate for me to begin a substantial additional tithing program, while no longer relying upon the local food bank to eat since room and board were to be provided. Glory!
Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the Edwardian mansion, to be greeted by the scent of patchouli oil! Yes, the wealthy parents are . . . hippies!!
I immediately tendered my resignation to the head of household. She grabbed hold of my arm (my, she has a strong grip) and said she would not let me leave until I let her explain. Finally, after half an hour of rebuking Jo as she wrestled me to the ground and held me down (giving me quite a licking, I must admit), I decided it would be the Christian thing to do to let her at least offer her explanation.
It seems Jo had worked for the hippie man's parents before they passed on, and they made her promise to stay on and be sure their grandson (the boy I was to care for) would grow into a proper Christian man, not another God-hating, earth-worshipping new age hellbound hippie. Jo had searched far and wide to find a governess with my unique qualifications -- patience, virtue, long blonde hair, a proper Christian upbringing, a tight, athletic body, and a firm hand with difficult children.
So, after much persuasion (including a substantial increase to my generous salary, and upgrade to a two-room suite with full bath and a balcony overlooking the 100-year-old knot garden, the only original feature the hippies had not torn out), I agreed to remain for a six-month trial period.
All went well for the first few days, until I learned that the parents wanted to bring their fine little boy (who, incidentally, is learning the books of the Bible quite well, and knows all about the lies of evilution) to something called the "Oregon Country Fair". It sounded fine to me, until I looked it up online. It's a "clothing optional", "new age" gathering of hippies!
I was aghast! In no way would I allow them to take this innocent child and expose him to a bunch of fat old naked stoned hippies, free-loving under the trees!
I persuaded the hippies to wait until he was old enough to understand what he was seeing. I shot for 21, they agreed to . . . 10. So, I have until next July to figure out how to postpone them for another year.
I've already tried the local police and child welfare folks. They're all a bunch of liberals, who say that as long as nobody forces the child to do anything he doesn't want to do, it's fine and dandy for him to see naked hippies free-loving all over the place. They won't take him away to a safe place!
Can anyone help me? The boy, David, is coming along so nicely. He's sure to be a Godly man one day, if I can only save him from his parents!
As you know, I was raised in a good Christian orphanage. Once I was 16, the orphanage employed me in helping raise up other children fortunate enough to have their God-hating parents smitten.
A short while ago, I was offered a job as a governess at a fine estate. I did not get to meet the parents until I'd arrived, but Jo, their head of household, seemed a competent (if rather short-haired and dominant) Christian woman, and their 9-year-old boy seemed well-behaved and appropriately dressed. The pay offered was adequate for me to begin a substantial additional tithing program, while no longer relying upon the local food bank to eat since room and board were to be provided. Glory!
Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the Edwardian mansion, to be greeted by the scent of patchouli oil! Yes, the wealthy parents are . . . hippies!!
I immediately tendered my resignation to the head of household. She grabbed hold of my arm (my, she has a strong grip) and said she would not let me leave until I let her explain. Finally, after half an hour of rebuking Jo as she wrestled me to the ground and held me down (giving me quite a licking, I must admit), I decided it would be the Christian thing to do to let her at least offer her explanation.
It seems Jo had worked for the hippie man's parents before they passed on, and they made her promise to stay on and be sure their grandson (the boy I was to care for) would grow into a proper Christian man, not another God-hating, earth-worshipping new age hellbound hippie. Jo had searched far and wide to find a governess with my unique qualifications -- patience, virtue, long blonde hair, a proper Christian upbringing, a tight, athletic body, and a firm hand with difficult children.
So, after much persuasion (including a substantial increase to my generous salary, and upgrade to a two-room suite with full bath and a balcony overlooking the 100-year-old knot garden, the only original feature the hippies had not torn out), I agreed to remain for a six-month trial period.
All went well for the first few days, until I learned that the parents wanted to bring their fine little boy (who, incidentally, is learning the books of the Bible quite well, and knows all about the lies of evilution) to something called the "Oregon Country Fair". It sounded fine to me, until I looked it up online. It's a "clothing optional", "new age" gathering of hippies!
I was aghast! In no way would I allow them to take this innocent child and expose him to a bunch of fat old naked stoned hippies, free-loving under the trees!
I persuaded the hippies to wait until he was old enough to understand what he was seeing. I shot for 21, they agreed to . . . 10. So, I have until next July to figure out how to postpone them for another year.
I've already tried the local police and child welfare folks. They're all a bunch of liberals, who say that as long as nobody forces the child to do anything he doesn't want to do, it's fine and dandy for him to see naked hippies free-loving all over the place. They won't take him away to a safe place!
Can anyone help me? The boy, David, is coming along so nicely. He's sure to be a Godly man one day, if I can only save him from his parents!
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