If you are blessed at all, you have a favorite uncle. I don't care how wonderful your uncle may be mine is better. No one, except for about a hundred cousins, has a better uncle than mine. Frog was my mother's little brother. He was single when my memories started and he lived with us on three different occasions. The first time was when I was just a few weeks old and my dad was invited to join the war in Korea. Frog moved in to help my mom with one baby and one toddler. Unfortunately I didn't keep good notes back then so I have few memories of his stay. I do have one memory but its probably because the story has been told to me. I'll pass that story on later.
The second time Frog lived with us we were living on Sam Calloway Road in Fort Worth. One of the things I remember most about living in this house is Frog teaching my cousin, Mike, and me to smoke. As a side note, Mike is my cousin and best friend. We were born within three days of each other and together learned most of everything we ever needed to know. Mike and I equally idolized our uncle Frog and we had a huge appreciation for his willingness to share his vast knowledge of things our dads thought we were too young to know. At the advanced age of four, Mike and I were ready to smoke like every adult we knew.
I remember that day as if it were yesterday. Frog was sitting on the couch enjoying a good cigarette break. Mike and I wandered in from fighting Indians and bad guys and climbed up on the couch on either side of him. Purely out of a sense of discovery we asked Frog what cigarettes tasted like. He said he couldn't explain it. We would just have to find out for ourselves. I thought that would be the end of it because I knew Frog loved his cigarettes and was reluctant to share. Mike had a more inquisitive nature and continued to pester him for a valid answer. It never took much to wear Frog down. In about three minutes he produced a cigarette out of his pack for each of us and kindly lit them up before handing them over. The three of us had barely settled in for a good smoke when my mom walked into the room. You would have thought we were doing something dangerous or wrong the way she reacted. I don't know if my aunt Ramona ever knew that Mike got a spanking from my mom. I do know both of us got a severe beating and Frog would have got one too had he not been just a shade faster than my mom getting to and out the front door.
Mike and I gave up smoking after that. We saw no sense in getting beat for doing something that made us want to throw up. Uncle Frog is gone now as are all but one of my wonderful aunts and uncles. The Lord did answer our selfish prayers though and uncle Frog lived a good long time. He never changed....thank you Lord!!