Papuh

My best bud "T" related a story this morn bout his G-Pa spittin' snuff juice out frontards car windows and it blowin' in the backards windows quickern it went out onto unsuspecting passengers.

That story got me to thinkin' bout my Papuh. Mom's Dad craved Brown Mule chaw tobaccy all day every day. He would take his old Barlow folding knife and whittle off a fair plug and deposit that precious morsel between his cheek and gums.

As if that wasn't enuff raw nicotine being pipelined, he would then drag out a square brown glass bottle of Garrett snuff. Papuh would uncork the bottle and pull back his lip/cheek. Daintily placing a "pinch" of the snuff wasn't on his agenda. Papuh would turn the bottle up and shake a brown cloud into his mouth as dressing for the Brown Mule.

He rarely "spit", but when he did it made East Texas Crude oil pale in comparison. That ebony black syrup was strong enough to take the rust off cast iron. If not outside, Papuh used an old coffee can as a "spittoon".

Looking down into the depths of that spittoon was akin to looking into the depths of hell at poor souls doomed to an eternity of foul corruption.

Now kids being kids, guess how often that damn can got kicked over. Guess again who got the privilege of cleaning putrefied toxic waste off the floor.

Now tell me that performing that duty a time or two wouldn't be effective for keeping younguns off tobacco products?