God bless Mama! On more than one occasion she caught me smoking between the ripe ages of 6-9 years old. Now, Mama smoked, and Mama smoked a lot. Most folks who knew Mama will agree, the old Gal' always had a cup of coffee and a cigarette had, and when she was mad at me, she'd put that smoke between her lips, grip it tightly (so as not to lose it), balance the coffee without spilling a drop, and hit me with whatever close by, e.g. fly-swatter, spatula, rolling pin, or one of them dang 15 pound glass ashtrays what looked like furniture. Yep, it took more than just one whooping to turn me around, and to hear me tell, none of that stuff worked.
