There's A Marshall in Town

Now there was a man who loved life, family and children. He and his family lived in Houston, but when they came to Waco...he came to our house. Marshall never forgot a single story in his entire life and during his visit, we heard them all over again, one at a time. Mother, daddy and I worked a signal system while he was there. When one of us had listened all we could for a period of time, we gave a head nod...meaning, rescue ME!!
We loved him and no one would ever have hurt his feelings for anything in the world. Thus, it was a team effort. One of my early childhood memories from the little house on the road was when he came one summer. Remember, country, miles between...meaning a loaf of bread had to come from the little store back up the way, called Gallman's. They had the best ice cold drinks in the old timey box with crushed ice. Whew! Would take your breath for an instant and cool you off.
On one particular morning, mother said, "we're out of bread, I need to run to Gallman's and get a loaf...do ya'll want to go with me?" Instantly, (I think I was 5) I said, "no, please, I wanna play cowboys and indians with Marshall." He agreed that sounded fun, so off she went, leaving us to play.
Mother and daddy had a four poster bed with tall, spindled posts. That was the ideal place to tie up an Indian. So, after a brief discussion of who's the cowboy and who's the Indian, I told Marshall, "come here cowboy. Put your back against this post and put your hands behind your back." He minded so well. I took two of daddy's belts and lashed him to the bed. I was the best five year old cowgirl you'd ever want to meet!
I then left the bedroom and went back into the living room to play with stuff. In a few minutes I heard, "hey, cowgirl, come turn this 'ol Indian loose..." I'd reply, "can't do it, your my prisoner."
Gallman's was about 30-35 minutes round trip. By the time mother got back, her brother was worn out.
As soon as she cleared the door he shouted, "Cille, help me, the cowgirl tied me up and won't let me loose!" Let's just say we had a few words and that was the last adult I tied to the four poster bed during the cowboy/indian game.
We had a switch tree just outside the back door step. When you were in trouble, you had to go get a 'good enough' switch to be switched against the back of you legs! Trust me, it didn't take long to figure out what was barely 'good enough.' You didn't want mother to be the one to go and collect the switch. Don't remember if I got a switchin' that day, probably not...we had company.
They were not detrimental to us, but they stung like fire. Trust me...they made you think before you did something else stupid! I think, let me see, yes, that was called a consequence for wrong choices. Seems as though many parents today should have a switch tree outside the back door.
Bottom line...we all make choices. This go around, it would be nice if my consequence for missed steps would be a switch tree. Not so, however. Throughout life, I've chosen to enjoy all of the great sweets, fried foods, hamburgers, etc. My consequence now? Medical help to get me back in shape for the 'twilight years' ahead. I'm thankful. I do have some fears, I have excitement, I have many self talks daily now. This is something that must be done and done properly. I can not negate any necessary steps...thus, I am getting a round tuit every day now, 24/7.
Can you say R O U N D T U I T ????