I Wish That Someone Had Told Me

By Charles Sweet
August 2010

I wish that someone had told me that smoking cornsilk was not good for me. I was 9 years old, my little brother was 8. We had decided to smoke. Our mother was a smoker, the only one in the family, so it had to be OK. She had a little machine that rolled cigarettes. You could twist the ends and be all set to smoke. We rolled cornsilk on the machine in secret, then went under the corncrib and lit up. The corncrib floor was about 4 feet above the ground, so there was plenty of room to sit and puff.

After a couple of minutes, we both threw up! We had on bib overalls, and with the large pockets in front. They were overflowing with gook.

Results: Mother didn’t care about the smoking, but we permanently soiled the bib overalls. We got a tongue lashing!!

Dad didn’t care about the smoking, but what if we caught the corncrib on fire? The words he said are not printable.

Brother and I never smoked a cigarette again.

Someone always asks: when did I smoke? I always say, "I quit when I was 9." Then they want to hear the story.

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