The Prisoner

While the rest of us could be ordinary nuisances, my brother took it to the next level.

yianni-mathiou@unsplash

She couldn’t handle him, with four other monkeys to manage. So she tied him to a tree.

My brother was not a bad kid. He was just as good hearted as any 3-year-old can be expected to be, and then some. But he was a busy child. While the rest of us could be ordinary nuisances, my brother took it to the next level. Just two examples:

When my mother was doing her chores, and checking on us all, he managed to get into the (cold) fireplace and scatter the ashes. When we were outside, while she was hanging laundry on the clothesline, he opened the neighbor’s gate and let the chickens out.

A regular Dennis The Menace, in real life.

There were so many of these antics, my mother finally reached her wit’s end. She was unable to get anything done. So she tied him to a tree. Not tight against the tree, but with enough rope for him to move around and play with a couple of toys. My older sisters were old enough to keep an eye on him when he was tied up, so he couldn’t actually hurt himself. She thought.

One of my sisters felt sorry for him, and repeatedly untied him, to set him free. My oldest sister, and mother’s little helper, also having pity on the prisoner, gave him his tricycle to play with. He managed to get the trike, himself, and the rope so fouled up together, that my mother couldn’t untangle the mess.

I believe the fire department got involved.

In 2024, this tactic would, no doubt, be considered child abuse. In 1950, it was simply my mother’s creative attempt at self preservation.

Sharon Hudson 2024