Entertainment Speech
To some people having a baby seems effortless and straightforward. I mean, really how hard can it be? All you have to do is hold them, rock them to sleep, feed them their bottle when they cry and change their diaper a few times a day. Who wouldn’t want to bring home that sweet bundle of joy from the hospital, receive an overflow amount of cards, gifts, home cooked dinners and have all the help you would need from family members and friends. Sounds like a pretty simple question to me.
I will never forget, I was about fifteen year’s old flying out to Florida to go on a family vacation. Here comes walking down the aisle a mother around the age of thirty, very attractive, lovely looking face, hair put up in a bun sprayed heavily, wearing earrings and rings that were so flashy that the only thing I could do is sit there and gawk. Dragging behind her comes Jeffrey. Jeffrey was four years old. I know that because he kept walking around the plane telling everybody that he was four years old. “I use to be three years old and now I’m four years old”, he kept repeating over and over. I remember his name not because he told me he was four years old, but because his mother yelled his name all 2500 miles of the trip. Nobody on the plane could sleep because all you heard is Jeffrey get down, Jeffrey put that up, Jeffrey quit screaming, Jeffrey quit kicking the seats. People began to hate Jeffrey. Five minutes before the plane landed Jeffrey fell asleep. I remember sitting there think wow this kid horrible. His poor mother has no control over her child and where is his father to discipline him because God knows my dad would have sent me sailing out the exit door of that plane by now. I just thought this has to be a rare case and no way would I ever have a child that acted that way.
Five years ago, I was at the young age of seventeen, I was a thriving high school girl who didn’t have a care in the world other than when the next football game or dance was. My parents made sure
I will never forget, I was about fifteen year’s old flying out to Florida to go on a family vacation. Here comes walking down the aisle a mother around the age of thirty, very attractive, lovely looking face, hair put up in a bun sprayed heavily, wearing earrings and rings that were so flashy that the only thing I could do is sit there and gawk. Dragging behind her comes Jeffrey. Jeffrey was four years old. I know that because he kept walking around the plane telling everybody that he was four years old. “I use to be three years old and now I’m four years old”, he kept repeating over and over. I remember his name not because he told me he was four years old, but because his mother yelled his name all 2500 miles of the trip. Nobody on the plane could sleep because all you heard is Jeffrey get down, Jeffrey put that up, Jeffrey quit screaming, Jeffrey quit kicking the seats. People began to hate Jeffrey. Five minutes before the plane landed Jeffrey fell asleep. I remember sitting there think wow this kid horrible. His poor mother has no control over her child and where is his father to discipline him because God knows my dad would have sent me sailing out the exit door of that plane by now. I just thought this has to be a rare case and no way would I ever have a child that acted that way.
Five years ago, I was at the young age of seventeen, I was a thriving high school girl who didn’t have a care in the world other than when the next football game or dance was. My parents made sure