My wife and I were Florida foster parents to more than 60 kids in five years.
One of the smartest, an 11-year-old boy, shared with me on a fishing outing that he would bury himself under the cover when his mother would smoke in their Maine to Key West faithful or fateful by car southernmost adventure.
Now, as “the sensitive” are protesting the vintage song “Baby, it’s cold outside,” I must ask what millennium the “massive-caring-stage or the First Lady” will scream out about the toxic tobacco smoke innocent kids continue to endure on our “Earth-to-Mars” planet? Regretfully, Mr. John Lennon, no imagination is needed to see “adults” smoking in houses and cars, telling their innocent kids, “But, baby it’s cold outside.”
The kicker was witnessing a Lowers Keys Medical Center emergency room doctor (he was a smoker too, due to ER stress) writing a prescription, “Child should not be exposed to cigarette smoke,” as he was treating my 4-year-old foster son with severe asthma following a day-visit with his smoking family. I hope he still doesn’t need that daily nebulizer.