nuts in a fruit basket

I remember back to the early 60's still hearing the enormous laughter of my siblings as we played kick ball in front of our brick house as young children. We were just six little spit balls on fire,jumping up and down screaming at one another. It could be the final game of the night, but the girls were so determined to win that the dark sky didn't threaten us at all. Those far away streaks of lighting only made us more determined to get the winning run, come hell or high water that was  for sure.
Here we were, that funny little group of wild and crazy children all living under the same roof, with the same parents. We were the force of all craziness in on our neighborhood. It had been said more than once probably as late as oh, last night that we were all crazy, just a bunch of fruit cakes.
We mostly giggled as we laughed off our neighboring playmates knowing deep down inside were nuttier than any upside down fruit cake could possibility be. There was a great sense of pride in being part of the Griffin clan.
Why in some places around our neighborhood we were almost famous. Other family members from church, school, local grocery stores and places where my mom would buy discounted food items to feed her six pack of children, knew us quiet well.
In public, like school and church, department stores such as Wools Worth, Zayers, J.C.Penney's and a few other stores like those, the regular sales folks knew us very well. We were the polite storm. You know that type of family where those that fight together, pray together and then do a little bit of hell raising on the side. Our actions and behavior were always on trial with our mother. Jessie watched us like a hawk, never missing a thing we did. I can promise you that if we acted out in the smallest of ways that displeased her, well there would be hell to pay. Usually it was our ass that paid for our misbehavior every time.
As we grew up all six of us children found it distasteful to have to go outside and pick out our own switch that would be used to punish yourself. Now that's one big bag full of wild crazy if'n you ask me!!!What kind of kid wants to find his own punishing rod that will latter be use to smack the crap out of his rear in. That's a lesson that will surely be learn on good terms, too.
In the meantime the rest of us children were already probably raising more ruckus somewhere in the neighborhood. You see there was just this even set of numbers for us that mad it easy to get into trouble. There were three boys and three girls in my family.
We were a perfect mixture and smooth blend between The Brady Bunch and Denise The Menace, meets Andy of Mayberry and The Thing From Outer Space. Nothing that we did was off limits, or more like the Outer Limits and everything we tried as an experiment was just us being kids. Of course that also included when my middle brother, Paul set the bunk bed on fire with a lit candle cause he was hiding from my mom.
Or like the time a can of pineapple went missing and all six of us got punished. We never did find out who really did eat the pineapple, but it sure would of been nice to know since we all had to pick a switch that day,
If I had time I'm sure that I could remember lots more things to say, but for now I'll just sit here and let my mind drift back to the "good" times. When the days of being a kid meant that there was an equal amount of fun and adventurous time as there was a down time, let's kick you ass time.
I don't about some of you, but I miss days when values and a man's word meant everything and families were really families. Those that played together, indeed did pray together and that was the American we grew up on.
Where have all the families gone, long time ago, I remember that there was a good ole day. Just nuts in a fruit baskets.
Having fun and loving life...... that's what a family is for, nuts in all