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Started By
Message
2
Posted on 12/9/21 at 1:56 pm to CAD703X
I used to leave my keys in my car as a teen (in New Roads) but only when it was parked at home.
He forbade me to do it, but I did. One morning as I was leaving for school, my car was gone. In its place was a note that said "Parlange. Bring your spare key. Next time, it will be for sale."
Parlange Lane was exactly 1.3 miles from the house. He didn't even call school to tell em I'd be late.
I quit doing that.
He forbade me to do it, but I did. One morning as I was leaving for school, my car was gone. In its place was a note that said "Parlange. Bring your spare key. Next time, it will be for sale."
Parlange Lane was exactly 1.3 miles from the house. He didn't even call school to tell em I'd be late.
I quit doing that.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:02 pm to thadcastle
the shaking and the whole finding that perfect spot to not flip when you go on 2 wheels turning were what always scared the new friends to the campPosted on 12/9/21 at 2:03 pm to HermanBoone
quote:
Holding the flashlight for my dad made me the man I am today
Heck according to my dad over thanksgiving, I still haven't learned how to hold it right in 30 something years.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:06 pm to CAD703X
My dad would take me into work with him on saturdays he was called in. Just us in the warehouse. One day he pulled the rope on the 20' garage door and it snapped. He had 8 year old me lift him up on the forklift to tie a new rope.
I don't think I'd trust my son with that task
I don't think I'd trust my son with that task
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:07 pm to CAD703X
My dad would bring me out coon hunting at night when I was little. He bought a new puppy coon hound and we went out to the national forest just before dusk to turn him out to see if he could strike a coon (catch one's scent, and trail it a little bit). Sure enough, the puppy struck one and started tracking it until it was starting to get out of hearing range. So dad put me on his back, and we started walking out through the woods to find them. The puppy tree'd a coon out in the middle of a brake. So I got on his shoulders now, and he waded out in waste deep water to get his dog back. Next thing you know, the coon jumped out the tree and started fighting the dog. Dad was afraid the coon was going to drown or tear up his brand new prize coon dog, so he set me down in neck deep water, told me to grab a buttonwood limb, and wait right there while he went to save his dog. Half way there, coon and dog started swimming and fighting their way through the brake until they circled back and commenced to fighting right on top of me. Dad finally made it over to us all, grabbed the dog, pulled me up out of the water, and the coon swam off. Me and the dog were both scratched up and whining/crying. So he had to pack us both back to the truck that way.
My mom must have never forgiven him for that one, because they got divorced not to long after. I imagine it was mainly because going out all night several times a week "coon hunting" could have also been code for going to see another lady. Probably many poor decisions made by dear ole dad.
My mom must have never forgiven him for that one, because they got divorced not to long after. I imagine it was mainly because going out all night several times a week "coon hunting" could have also been code for going to see another lady. Probably many poor decisions made by dear ole dad.
This post was edited on 12/9/21 at 2:09 pm
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:07 pm to 3nOut
quote:
My dad was in this vein (vane? Not sure.)
I was woke up 30 minutes before sunrise to mow our 4 acres every Saturday until High School. Got some breaks in the winter months.
I mean EVERY Saturday. I grew up in West Texas so it’s not like it was lush and green and growing all there time.
One of my favorite things he made me do was dig a 250 foot ditch 2 feet deep by 3 wide so that he could run an irrigation line. With a single shovel. He never installed it. I’m fairly convinced he did that just so I didn’t sit around all summer.
Just a product of the 80s/early 90s. I don’t begrudge the man.
I got suspended for fighting in 10th grade. Dad was out of town, thank god, so he had to dole out my punishment via my grandmother.
Had 3 ricks of wood on one side of the 2 acre yard.
HE called first morning and told me to move it by hand to the other side of the yard and call him when i was through.
Each time I called he told me to move it to the other side.
this went on for 3 days. worst punishment ever.
This post was edited on 12/9/21 at 2:08 pm
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:08 pm to CAD703X
If I ever got in a fight at school and lost, he would take me to the kids house, talk to the dad and have us fight again. I remember both dads sitting in the yard watching us fight like it was no big deal. After the third time I stopped fighting in school completely.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:09 pm to SUB
quote:
Somehow...there were always low spots every year.
Because sand washes away. Your dad was a dumbass.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:13 pm to ducktale
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:14 pm to CAD703X
quote:
this happened in like 1974. might be the lid came off and it poured down my back that way. i just remember how it felt.
Might be you just made it all up like Oweo and now you're trying to change the story after getting called out.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:15 pm to CAD703X
We always had horses growing up - my dad would buy problem horses and make me ride them to gentle them down, then sell them.
I was about 12 or 13 when he bought a big paint gelding. That SOB was an outlaw to deal with - he'd paw you, bite you, kick you and buck at the drop of hat.
Dad gets tired of it and decided to sell him. The horse refused to load on the trailer so my dad makes me stand inside the trailer and pull the horse while he whips it.....the horse finally lunges into the trailer, with me in it, and dad swings the trailer door shut.
I'm trapped inside a raggedy 16' bumper pull trailer with a wild arse 1200 lb horse.
I'm hollering for him to let me out and he says "just hold on a minute boy, I need to get a cigarette" then walks off and comes back a few minutes later.
I was about 12 or 13 when he bought a big paint gelding. That SOB was an outlaw to deal with - he'd paw you, bite you, kick you and buck at the drop of hat.
Dad gets tired of it and decided to sell him. The horse refused to load on the trailer so my dad makes me stand inside the trailer and pull the horse while he whips it.....the horse finally lunges into the trailer, with me in it, and dad swings the trailer door shut.
I'm trapped inside a raggedy 16' bumper pull trailer with a wild arse 1200 lb horse.
I'm hollering for him to let me out and he says "just hold on a minute boy, I need to get a cigarette" then walks off and comes back a few minutes later.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:17 pm to Ingeniero
quote:
Holding the flashlight for my dad made me the man I am today
Hold it where I can see.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:19 pm to CAD703X
Made me rinse out his shop regularly. 3 bays. That wasn't so bad, but he would feel for "grit" afterwards and I'd be in deep shite.
He also would run his finger under the fenderwell of his car that I washed.
Pretty much the same for the mower deck after the lawn that I mowed.
Removed the safety device from the tractor seat that required someone in it to be running, because I was too short/light to keep it down.
My dad was an a-hole. Still is.
He also would run his finger under the fenderwell of his car that I washed.
Pretty much the same for the mower deck after the lawn that I mowed.
Removed the safety device from the tractor seat that required someone in it to be running, because I was too short/light to keep it down.
My dad was an a-hole. Still is.
This post was edited on 12/9/21 at 2:20 pm
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:20 pm to SUB
quote:
Every summer my dad would order a truck load of sand to be dumped in our yard and instruct me to distribute the sand to the "low spots" in the yard. I'd spend the next couple days shoveling sand into a wheelbarrow and finding low spots and smoothing sand over them with a rake.
Evidently this was a popular job for kids. My grandfather, who was a ssgt in wwII, got a dump truck full of fill sand dumped at the front of the driveway. My job was to move it to the back yard(about 200’ away),wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow. After a week I had finally moved it all. The next week he had me move it again to another spot. Did this a few more times that summer. I had blisters on top of blisters.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:25 pm to TygerTyger
quote:
My dad was pretty strict. Especially when it came to chores. If he told me to cut the grass, I had to cut the grass no matter what. If I goofed off thinking I'd get out of it, he'd rain down hell. I've cut grass in the rain, at night, and on Christmas eve. It sucked but it taught me to follow through on commitments
Same here. One time he told me to mow when I got home from school, I didn't. Literally kicked me out of the house onto my mom's car. I start mowing cussing him for all he was worth, turn around and he was right behind me. He must have known I was scared shitless because he just turned around and walked back to the house.
The yard was always mowed after that, no matter what I had going on.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:27 pm to HermanBoone
quote:
Backing up the truck to the trailer to hook up/progressing to backing up the trailer itself, too.
My dad told me to go back the trailer down the ramp to load the boat (I'd never done it before). So I'm like, ok. I immediately jack-knifed the trailer trying to back in. My dad laughed his arse off (he never laughed about anything unless it involved me screwing up). He was a miserable alcoholic shite, but made me the man I am. I just took his dad playbook and did the opposite. Both my son's are USAFA grads and pilots in the AF. I guess the my parenting playbook worked.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:28 pm to CAD703X
A dad story not my own - guy I worked with for years told me when he and brother were kids, his dad told them when the ice cream truck came through the neighborhood- if the music was playing it signified the vendor was out of ice cream. Dude said he never had a single ice cream treat from that truck growing up. He was still butt hurt at 53 years old. I tried not to laugh when he told that story but, alas, in vane. Cackled for 5 minutes - he didn’t share the humor. Dude was fricked up anyway. That ice cream deal probably contributed. Chuckling as I recount this.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:40 pm to Darth_Vader
Another:
My brother was 4 years older than me.
My dad, like a lot of dads, had a standing rule that you didn't start fights and you didn't lose a fight....violation of either of those constituted a whipping.
My brother and I got into an argument over which one of us was the smartest. Things escalated and I ended up with a an eye swollen shut.
Dad gets home from work and notes my black eye. "what happened?" I explain that my brother and I got into an argument over who was the smartest and that ended up in a fight.
"well, you look like a fricking genius with that eye swollen shut."
Brother got whipped for starting the fight. I got whipped for losing.
My brother was 4 years older than me.
My dad, like a lot of dads, had a standing rule that you didn't start fights and you didn't lose a fight....violation of either of those constituted a whipping.
My brother and I got into an argument over which one of us was the smartest. Things escalated and I ended up with a an eye swollen shut.
Dad gets home from work and notes my black eye. "what happened?" I explain that my brother and I got into an argument over who was the smartest and that ended up in a fight.
"well, you look like a fricking genius with that eye swollen shut."
Brother got whipped for starting the fight. I got whipped for losing.
Posted on 12/9/21 at 2:43 pm to CAD703X
My dad loves vodka. One day I was thirsty and wanted water. He told me there was a black mardi gras cup on the table with water and to drink that. I took one sip and thought I died. I cried for like 2 hours after that. It was straight vodka. Oh and I was 4.
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