Sometimes the only thing to be done is to lay down the law. A lot of people shy away from that act. I don’t really know why. Perhaps it’s because it takes a lot of mental effort to be forthright and people fear being viewed in a negative light.
My advice to anyone who knows in their heart they have no choice but to lay down the law is stick to your guns. Being right, standing up for what’s right, is hard but necessary. Unless we want anarchy with people running about naked in the streets while drinking cocktails or a return to the days of the wild, wild west.
I actually wouldn’t mind a return to those wild west days to be frank because I love Westerns and cowboys and horses and I know I would make a kick ass Sheriff. Plus I look good in leather waistcoats and Stetsons. If I were Sheriff no one – but no one -would mess with me because I would run any sorry, scruffy, good for nothing lowdown dirty blowhard out of town faster than you could say Wild Bill Hickok.
I had to lay down the law three times last week.
For the first time ever I didn’t care if the parties for whom the law was being laid down thought I was a bitch. I didn’t care what they thought because for once it was all about what I wanted. It was all about standing up for my life.
First laydown moment –
My parents came over to tell me they are leaving for America in 2 weeks and that they will be away for Christmas. I was glad they came over and when they asked if we could let bygones be bygones I said I was happy to but they had to follow the actions speak louder than words rule. Show me you are prepared to move forward; don’t say it and then just go back to your old habits.
Second laydown moment –
Remember that incident at my son’s school where a kid pulled a knife on another kid and my son witnessed it? Well, the knife-wielding kid is still there. Apparently, it is a very lengthy process to expel someone, especially if no other school in the area wants that person due to their record of violence and mayhem.
Like I care.
My friend, Mel, who is a journalist for one of the big Sydney newspapers marched into the Principal’s office with me and asked said Principal for a quote concerning her philosophy on knives in schools and why she felt it was reasonable to allow a child with such a history of violence to remain at the school.
I just want to understand your position and I am sure all the parents of teenage children in the Sydney Metro area would like to understand it too, Mel said as the Principal grew paler and paler. It was freaking brilliant. I wish I could be cool as a cucumber like that and still get my point across. Journalists rule. Needless to say it now looks like the expulsion is moving ahead.
Third laydown moment –
My husband was informed in no uncertain terms that a weekly night out with the boys means just that. Not a weekly night out with the women you picked up on the previous night out with the boys. Oh sorry, you didn’t pick them up, you were just talking to them. And they didn’t come along on your night out – they just happened to be there. It may be just semantics to you but it means someone is messing with me. And I’ve got news for you, buster, the Sheriff is in town.
The thought of laying down the law is never easy but the outcomes are highly desirable as well as incredibly liberating.
You learn a lot from being Sheriff.
Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.
Lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier’n puttin’ it back.
And the very important:
Don’t squat with your spurs on.
But mostly you learn one major thing:
Shoot Straight and Speak the Truth.
Watch out, pardners….