Guest Post: White Trash (by Tuck Mantooth)
My grandma’s old house next door was vacant. Grandma might have moved in with Aunt Doris at that time, but I cannot recall. It seemed to me that she was always moving in with somebody.
Grandma rented her old home place to what Mama called “white trash.” She always had a name for everything, even though I didn’t understand what she meant most of the time.
A few months passed, and the white trash didn’t pay their rent. They moved out one night without saying goodbye or anything. Mama said, “You can’t trust that white trash.”
I remember the smell the renters left in that old musty house. All of Grandma’s furniture was ruined. I think it was junk anyway, because Grandma was what Mama called “tight.”
The mattress smelled like a dirty, old wet diaper, just like mine did when Mama waited too long to change me. That white trash had let their kids wet the bed so many times that the mattress had to be thrown out and burned in the back yard.
I never wet the bed after that—I couldn’t stand the way the bed smelled. Plus, I didn’t want Mama to think I was white trash.
© 2009 Tuck Mantooth All Rights Reserved
Photo/KarenJordan
Does Tuck's story remind you of a story from your childhood?
Posted by Karen Jordan at 10 Oct 2011 
Categories: Encouraging Spiritual Stories
Tags: remembering writing prompt Guest Post mother Tuck Mantooth
Categories: Encouraging Spiritual Stories
Tags: remembering writing prompt Guest Post mother Tuck Mantooth
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