My Fingers Were Crossed
Mom and Dad seemed satisfied, but God saw what they didn’t: My fingers were crossed.
Our parents believed a halo adorned my brother Rodney’s head, and horns protruded from mine. No story had two sides: I was always wrong — which was the case when we fought the Mexican standoff.
For his birthday, Mama gave Rodney a pirate outfit, complete with feather-festooned hat, Jolly Roger eye patch, and a long, curving scimitar. Rodney jabbed and slashed at me until I could take no more.Welcome to CFP’s Comment Section!
The Comment section of online publications is the new front in the ongoing Cancel Culture Battle.
Big Tech and Big Media are gunning for the Conservative Voice—through their Comment Sections.
Canada Free Press wishes to stay in the fight, and we want our fans, followers, commenters there with us.
We ask only that commenters keep it civil, keep it clean.
Thank You for your patience and for staying aboard the CFP ‘Mother Ship’.
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