Stories about our parents (houses, the best, how much, phone)

[studedude]

I got such a great reaction from the story about my mom I thought I should start a new thread.

We all know our parents are crazy. It's hereditary they catch it from their kids. Tell something amusing that your mom or dad did when you were a kid.

Because we live in 4 different states my siblings and I do not get together very often. The last time we did we all agreed the best way to describe mom was "A crusty old broad." We meant it with the greatest affection. Some of the things she said and did were outrageous. Here's one of my favorites.

The neighbor's, who my mom had an intense dislike for, had a cat. Their cat would come into our yard and use it as a sand box. Mom started turning the hose on the cat to chase it off. One day she got a call from the ASPCA.

"Mrs T we have a complaint from Mrs L. She tells us you are squirting her cat with a hose."

"Yes I have been."

"Why would you do that?"

"Their cat is making a mess in my yard."

"How much of a mess can a cat make?"

Without hesitation my mom shot back.
"Lets see he's over here 3 or 4 times a day. There are 7 days in a week, 52 weeks in a year. You figure it out and call me back and let me know so the next time I'm asked I'll know."

She passed away 35 years ago and to the best of my knowledge never got that call.


Surely I am not the only one here with colorful parents. Let's hear your stories.

[nilssson]

We lived in one room, all 27 of us , no heat or running water and half the floor was missing. After dark the red eyes of vermin glowed enough for us to read by. When we misbehaved, mum made us stand outside is the blustery frost on the filthy ground and would hit us with a aluminum baseball bat if we even thought about shivering. When we were hungry, she made us take turns licking the same dried out potato peel at dinner time and sometimes she would let us chew tree bark for lunch but only if we were able to run her gauntlet of strewn broken glass--barefoot. Breakfast was even worse: egg McMuffins. We would collect our tears of despair in a dilapidated Dixie cup and passed it around taking small sips so we would at least get some fluids.
Those were the days.
Mum's with the Lord now. (knife fight at the Dew Drop Inn during quarter a beer night)

[MICoastieMom]

I was as close to being a military brat as one could be without actually having my dad in the military. My mother used to tell people that he was a migrant worker- he worked in the aereospace program. My father really was a rocket scientist, we moved wherever the government contracts took us.

We moved to Florida just before the end of the school year (7th grade) so I didn't know too many kids over summer vacation- fortunately there were girls my age on both sides of us plus across the street and two houses over. None of us girls ventured out of this circle very much, even tho the other girls had been there forever. Way down at the other end of the street was a girl my age that I barely knew from school and her younger sister. No body like them much because they were kind of snotty and always bragging about everything they had, which was considerable for the times. Remember, the Beatles were still a group at the time of this story; kids didn't have every little gadget their heart desired. Truthfully, there weren't that many gadgets to be desired. But what there was, these girls had. Each girl had her own room with a TV and a phone and whatever was the latest in hi-fi equipment for their records (Records....? They were large flat discs with a groove in it and you put it on a turntable and placed a needle in the groove and it reproduced the music. Turntable....?) They also had 10-speed bikes at a time when most kids were still riding balloon tire bikes, and even a 3 speed or English bike, as we called them, were uncommon.

They also had the stupidest dog I have ever run across. He was a big, gray, goofy looking Wiemeraner named Herman. Herman had a nose for trouble and that usually involved somebody's trash. Invariably, Herman would get out the night before collection day and, you guessed it, he dug through all the trash on the street. It wasn't bad enough that he tore through the bags and strew the contents across the lawn; he took your trash into the neighbors yard and their trash into the next and so forth on down the line. Have you ever picked up trash? Doing your own is bad enough, but at least you know what's there.

I must also note that these were the olden days when it was still safe enough to issue a student directory, so I had this family's number in my copy. Every week, Mother would call down to speak with the lady of the house about the dog being loose and every week the answer would be the same, "Oh, not Herman, Herrrman's playing Barrrbie's with the girls in the sunroom!" The lady of the house was the epitome of the ditsy bleached blonde with the most syrupy, sacchrine voice I have ever heard. I really think she thought she was Marilyn Monroe! Thirty seconds later, we'd see both the girls tearing through the streets on those ten-speeds, looking for Herman.

Did not take long for my mother to get a belly-full. One time when my dad was working late, she drove into town the night before collection day, went to the butcher and purchased the finest filet mingnon in the shop. Then she waited and she soon was rewarded for her watchfulness. Down the street with his now-famliar gait came Herman. As soon as he was distracted with tearing up our trash, out she went with the filet to coax him into the garage. Then she made her phone call. The bleached blonde, sacchrine voice at the other end responded, "Oh, not Herman, Herrrman's playing Barrrbie's with the girls in the sunroom." "You don't know how relieved I am to hear that," my mother replied, "because we've got a dog that looks just like him trapped in the garage and my husband's loading his shotgun!"

"Oh,... oh,.... oh,.... we, we, we'll be right down," came the surprised voice on the other end of the line. Almost immediately, a strange car appeared in our driveway and out got a strange man- I'd never seen their father before. "You've got my dog," he stammered to Mother. Mother promptly gave him his dog, the very moment he cleaned up all the trash in our yard.

Now you might think that's the end of the story. You'd be wrong! The next day, my dad came home from the missle plant (as we called it) in a really foul mood. Mother asked what had happened that upset him so. "So and so (his boss) found fault with everybody and everything." Mother couldn't imagine why Daddy's boss would be so unreasonable and said so. With a cool drink and a little more coaxing, Daddy revealed that some fool woman locked the boss's dog in her garage last night, accused him of tearing her trash, and wouldn't give the dog back until the yard was cleaned. Neither Daddy nor his boss realized that they were neighbors and that the "fool woman" was Daddy's wife! The family had a fairly common last name; Mother and I had never made the connection before either. My mother and I exchanged furtive glances and said not one word. We were living somewhere in the mid-west before she told Daddy the whole story.

It became a private joke between my mother and me. To this day, when one of us wants the other to come for a visit to quilt, we call and say we want "Herrrman to come play Barrrbie's!"

[Roaddog]

My dad's a character, he doesn't hear real well but won't get a hearing aid, one time we were up in an isolated camp ground, we were walking by a lake to go fishing, we walked by a guy fishing and said hello, the guy said I sure wish there was a store close by and my Dad heard something differant and answered the guy " it will get better in the morning" the guy looked at him like he was a nut and I cracked up. Now when we go fishing and my Dad says something we always answer him with It will get better in the morning, he just laughs and shakes his head.

[motormaker]

Good stuff.

[Janipoo]

My mom ordered a cake for my sister's 40th birthday and she wanted the cake to say "Happy 39th birthday, NOT" and she wanted the "NOT" to be written in red. When she picked up the cake it read........"Happy 40th birthday not in red" (I am cracking up just typing it). We all got such a big laugh except for my mom, she was mad to say the least. When we still talk about it today she still get mad and than that makes us laugh more.

[Tek_Freek]

Originally Posted by Janipoo

My mom ordered a cake for my sister's 40th birthday and she wanted the cake to say "Happy 39th birthday, NOT" and she wanted the "NOT" to be written in red. When she picked up the cake it read........"Happy 40th birthday not in red" (I am cracking up just typing it). We all got such a big laugh except for my mom, she was mad to say the least. When we still talk about it today she still get mad and than that makes us laugh more.

Okay, I'm sitting here laughing like a fool!

NOT in red

[115db]

As we know, the Japanese are very strict with their kids. So...my mom ruled with an 'iron fist' (per say, of course). But my dad never punished us. Of course, I was a perfect angel growing up...

[Magnum Mike]

Originally Posted by Livewire

As we know, the Japanese are very strict with their kids. So...my mom ruled with an 'iron fist' (per say, of course). But my dad never punished us. Of course, I was a perfect angel growing up...

Both of my parents were the serious type, I don't remember too many amuzing things they did that are worth mentioning.

Speaking of being strict, I remember I got sent to my room a couple of times when I was a kid, one time, and you'll probably get a kick out of this Livewire, I stuck a knife inside an electrical outlet.. I remember the end of the knife was gone, luckily, it had a wooden handle. Sooo.. my father sent me to my room.

The other time was when I was 9 years old in 1966, I damaged the front bumper of our neighbor's 1963 Chrysler Imperial, when I was with their kid playing in their driveway. I forgot what I used, but I beat the bumper with it a few times, and put a few dents in the bumper. I know the neighbor wasn't too happy, neither was my dad, so.. I remember getting sent to my room, and I recall getting grounded for a period of time.

That was stupid, and I kept wondering why I did that. Needless to say, I never did such a thing again.

[motormaker]

Mike,
And your still being sent to your room. It's never ending.