Mother’s Day has come and gone, yet thoughts of her linger on.

So, it looks like she will be starring in another little blog.

When us kids were little, we would ask our parents to tell us stories about when they were little.

A story my mom told us kids over and over was about her and Uncle Freddy. They were both very little and living in Central, New Mexico.

One day they found a razor blade and climbed on top of a wooden crate that was in front of a barrel filled with water.

Water that was used for drinking, bathing and for washing clothes.

My grandpa not only had to go a distance for it, but he also had to pay for it.

My mom and Uncle Freddy started cutting their hair with the razor blade, watching it fall into the barrel and it was fascination watching their hair floating on the water.

But wonder didn’t last long when my grandpa grabbed my uncle and whipped him.

Mom says she took off like a jackrabbit to a friend’s house and hid behind a bush.

My grandpa showed up in his car, grabbed my mom by her braid and made her walk while he drove back home with his arm sticking out of the driver’s side window, his hand still on her braid.

Once home, mom got her piece of whipping pie.

~missy salcido wead