I know, I know. It is hard to believe that sweet, innocent, lil’ old me could ever be called mean. And maybe, just maybe I was mean - I don’t know how else I got the nickname ‘Mean Lesley Green’.  I’m sure Daniel, Angie, Kristy, Stacey, Levi, and Jeff would all agree that I am way too nice to be mean.

  Can mean be passed down? Not that I’m admitting that I was/am mean, just wondering. There are many instances that could be considered mean, but again we just don’t know. The time that I punched Daniel in the face or scratched his chest deep enough to bleed (more than once I’m afraid). The time I dragged Angie down the hallway by her hair or the time I threw frozen yogurt at her head. The time I dropped Kristy on her head on concrete or when I slammed her head in the bathroom door. Putting tacks around my bed so if they crossed the line into MY side of the room they would step on a tack. Threatening them with future hurt if they dared tell mom and dad how mean I was when I babysat them. Then of course the kicker - the time I hit Daniel’s friend Curtis in the head with a 2×4. Oops, it was nothing 50 stitches didn’t take care of. Last year when I punched Levi in the face - total accident, I swear! And poor Jeff has had his share of scratches and bruises that could be considered wife abuse. I’m afraid I could go on and on with the mean, but I’d better stop there before you start to think I really am mean.

  I think Shenzie may have inherited some of my “mean gene”. I hear poor Heaten whining and what do I find…..Shenzie kicking him over and over in his side and head. Everytime I put them together she somehow manages to manuever around and pull his hair, scratch his face, kick his head, or eat his feet. I think maybe, just maybe she is going to be just like her mama - sweet as sugar with a teensy weensy bit of sour.

Who me? I would never hurt brudder.

 The evidence:

Shenzie ‘eating’ brother’s foot

Shenzie ‘eating’ brother’s hand