At least once a day... Dad might yell toward a closed door... Turn off that damned drug-crazed hippie music!
Mom wasn't the type to offer much sympathy or kiss boo boos. Usually once a week, she'd say to one of us... If you're gonna be dumb, you'd better be tough. (Although, I don't think that's crazy)
I'm certain most of what they said wasn't too original, but Dad often liked to quote Sheriff Buford T. Justice in moments of desperation. A particular favorite of his was... There is no way, NO WAY, that you came from my loins.
In a rare moment of expressing happiness, dad might say that he was happier than a puppy with two peters.
Mom wasn't the type to offer much sympathy or kiss boo boos. Usually once a week, she'd say to one of us... If you're gonna be dumb, you'd better be tough. (Although, I don't think that's crazy)
I'm certain most of what they said wasn't too original, but Dad often liked to quote Sheriff Buford T. Justice in moments of desperation. A particular favorite of his was... There is no way, NO WAY, that you came from my loins.
In a rare moment of expressing happiness, dad might say that he was happier than a puppy with two peters.
"You look like a hooligan!" or "You look like a hippie!" - It was heard if one's hair half covered his ears.
After my parents bought a Fisher console stereo, they told my older sister not to wear it out.
On summer mornings, my sister played stacks of records all day long after they went to work.
Never wore that stereo out. Her boyfriend at the time (~1987) took it apart to replace the tubes and it never worked again...
On summer mornings, my sister played stacks of records all day long after they went to work.
Never wore that stereo out. Her boyfriend at the time (~1987) took it apart to replace the tubes and it never worked again...
My father swore a lot around us, even when we were little. My maternal grandmother hated my father, and was a very pious woman who would dish out lectures that young and old dreaded. We knew we weren't supposed to swear, and I was very frightened of my father. I was the good kid and always tried to do what I was supposed to; but my brother, well, I'll just say that in retrospect it isn't a surprise the way he turned out.
When we were real little, I was around 7 and Billy was 4, my maternal grandmother stayed at our house while visiting. Now I knew my parents were walking on eggshells the whole time (my father was driven to distraction just by her presence and once I was over the age of 12 she had the same effect on me) because she constantly criticized my parents about how bratty their boys were (she hated boys had all girls). My grandmother was sitting in the living room and my mom, brother and I were sitting in the kitchen. My mother was taking a batch of cookies out of the oven and putting them on a rack to cool. Of course us boys were drooling in the presence of fresh cookies right out of the oven, but being the goodie-two-shoes I was I bit my tongue and didn't ask. My brother of course asked for some cookies. Even at 4 years old he wouldn't take no for an answer. My mother told him to wait for everyone else and then he said "If you don't give me some cookies right now I'm going to say "$h!t" in front of grandma." My mother didn't say another word and served us both heaping plates of cookies. If Billy had sworn in front of Grandma there probably would have been a murder that day and it would have been my father murdering my grandmother. I guarantee you he would have never lived it down. She would have pilloried him big time for teaching us those nasty words.
