My Aunt had taken me shopping to some mall, and I decided to hide under one of those circular clothing racks (I was probably around 3-5 years old at the time). I have only vague recollection of this - but it sounds like me. Anyhow, so I hide under this rack when my Aunt isn't looking, and I hear her calling for me and I stayed hidden for a few minutes. I finally came out from the rack, totally proud of myself "HaHa, Aunt Bernie, I was hiding!" I'm surprised she didn't kill me LOL
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One of Dad's favorite stories (and I vaguely remember this one) - If I was going to get spanked, the words I heard were "Assume the Position!". Well, I decided I was going to outsmart him this one time. I did assume the position (which meant face down across his lap) but I placed some hardcover books down my backside to cushion the blow. I thought I was so smart he wouldnt know, and I planned to scream bloody murder to make him think he made his point. Well, he started laughing so hard he couldn't spank me. So although it didn't happen the way I thought it would - I guess I was still successful!
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In nursery school one day, I was sent to sit in the corner and they called my parents to come get me. My act of defiance? Another kid dared me to say some curse words, and I took the dare. I dont remember which parent had to leave work to pick me up, but I bawled "he made me say them!"
Speaking of cursing, I was around my parents enough and picked up on words they said. Dad, for his part, did not curse much and tried to watch what he said around me. Instead of "Oh Shit" he would routinely use "Oh Sugar".
But I could tell how to use the words they said even though they forbid me to use them. One day, angry at something they told me I couldn't do, I got out of the car when we returned home, stamped my foot and exclaimed "Damn Damn Double Damn," for which I got sent to my room. I always wondered why they didn't acknowledge the proper use of a word I had never used before.
After watching a Flintstones episode one day, Fred said to Wilma "Will you open the cotton picking door?"
A few days later, Mom took me and a friend to a movie and when we got home, she was taking too long for my liking, so I repeated what I heard: "Will you open the cotton picking door already?" I got punished over that one, but I feel it was more over my tone than what I actually said.
TONE would end up being a big thing through my teenage years.
"Don't you use that tone with me"
"Don't you put an edge on your words with me"
(This is where I would emphasize the last syllable as in alRITE! (alright)..or FINE!!!)
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Living in NJ at the time, and I was probably 10/11 or so - Dad was working in New York and Mom and I decided to see a play and spend the day in Manhattan. Had a great time and then we took a taxi and were meeting up with Dad at the airport to fly somewhere. Getting into the taxi, Mom was taking forever..so I thought I would help her with a little nudge (push) so that I could get in to the cab too.. Oooh boy, bad decision, Bad Decision. I learned never to push Mom getting into a cab again.
Speaking of travelling, and with similar circumstances years later.. Mom and I flew to New Mexico (Albuquerque) to look at colleges. This was where I decided to go to school at NMSU in Las Cruces, but we looked at both NMSU (in Las Cruces) and UNM (in Albuquerque). It seems our connecting flight was delayed in Houston and we finally boarded very late at night...Tired, and just wanting to get there as we probably had to be up early for my campus visit - We finally board and get on the plane. I was so excited, I was probably about 10 feet ahead of Mom. I just wanted to get there! I got to our row, and looked she was looking in the overhead bins for room for her bags..Frustrated, I exclaimed loudly "RIGHT OVER, HERE MOTHER!" -- I never called her Mother - EVER... and she even said to someone "Uh oh! I'm in trouble now...he called me Mother!"
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Mom and I knew (and still do) know how to push each other's buttons very well.
Dad once said, Mom and I arguing was like having an open wound, and then one of us is not only swirling the knife around the wound, but we made sure to pour sugar on it too (or maybe it was salt) just to make sure it hurt..
It was during one of those arguments, Mom picked up from somewhere..some movie or something...to tell me that she was taking me out to the shed and one of us wasn't gonna make it back!!
One of the best ways for me to push her buttons when we were arguing..was I realized if I tried to get the upper hand in the argument, she didn't know how to react. I somehow learned this at a very early age. I don't remember what I did, but I got home and she had said something to the effect of "don't do this again OR ELSE". To which my reply was "or else what?" -- In my defense, I just wanted to know what the consequences were so I could weigh my options and decide was it worth it in my opinion. The problem was, she didn't have an "or else" and it infuriated her that I asked. I remember she sent me to my room, and after my Dad came home from work (I was probably around 8 or 9), I heard the two of them talking in the living room and I heard him say, "Honey, just give him an or else!" Writing this, I started laughing - even back then my Dad and I just spoke the same language and had the same logic! (To set the record straight, I never did get an "or else what")
When I got older, I continued to use logic when I argued.
In a Penneys store one time shopping with Dad for new clothes for him - Mom and I were having one of our moments when she got mad at something I said, and whatever she said back to me - I didn't like either. I told her when she was ready to address me and talk like a human instead of a child, she could come to talk. You can imagine how well that went over. About as well as the time I told her I was probably 15 or so and "tired of her stuff!" Woo Boy.. am I ever surprised I survived to adulthood.
Even as an adult, we knew how to push each other's buttons. Part of it is we are both alike and emotional. This one time in the car, I kept pushing because I felt relatively safe with family in the car with me..She wouldn't kill me with both of there, right? So, whatever I said I could tell I got to her..and then I had the nerve to ask her..Are you OK, Mom? You sound irritated.. Is everything alright?
With Dad, I pushed buttons later in life, but as a young kid - Mom was really the disciplinarian and if Dad got involved, I was in big trouble!! I remember times he only had to say my name and I knew to stop before I really got it!
When I got older, I would taunt him and say 'What's your name"
"Dad"
"What's your name on your birth certificate?"
"As far as you are concerned, its Dad"
I continued to torment him and realized if I called him, it tended to get under his skin. Every once in a while, I would hear him mutter "I am not going to do it, I am not going to do it..I am not going to let that little shit get to me" -- I told him by the time he said that, he to admit I already had - and we both laughed.
It was because of the "Al" stuff that he swore if he could go back he would have given me a name that could be shortened to 2 letters and it was during this time he gave me yet another nickname - Jemooz - which was born out of my initials JMZ..Sometimes he would call me Jamoke.
Dad would often quip "Enough with the Al shit. My name is Dad"
This part of the Al story became famous when we saw the movie "A Good Day to Die Hard." The plot concerned John McClane and his estranged son. Imagine our surprise to hear "Enough with the John shit, my name is Dad" from Bruce Willis. We both threw a look at each other and then dissolved into hysterical laughter. It must have taken us 20 minutes to stop laughing so hard. I think Hollywood owes us some royalties for that one.
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To her credit, Mom taught me how to do my own laundry sometime before I left for college. As a kid, we did not have a washer/dryer in our apartment and so we went out to the laundromat to do it. This was the start of where Dad and I said she was the Psychotic Laundress From Hell. She would ask me if I wanted to go with her, and then force me to go if I said no. LOL.
At the time, she was particular about how certain things were folded, so though she wanted my company and help folding stuff out of the dryer, she would sometimes refold if it didn't meet her expectations. The way I fold towels came out of this.
Years later, the Psychotic Laundress the title was solidified, before one family vacation. By now, we had a washer and dryer in the house which was in the basement, and she was doing some pre-vacation laundry. She gave me strict orders to take what was in the washer and put in in the dryer for so many minutes on such and such setting. Typical Me, I didn't listen and I re-washed what was in the washer for another cycle. Holy Hell - That was the time Dad and I figured out it only took .06 seconds for her to turn from Mom to Bitch.
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Dad helped me pack and move one time after I had been in Arizona for a while. He flew out using my flight benefits, and together we went to Uhaul, bought a bunch of boxes, and began packing up my apartment in Tempe when I initially moved to Chandler. We ran out of boxes and had to do a 2nd run to buy more. So we did. As he finished packing, the boxes were stacked in one corner of the apartment. I decided to mess with him as he was standing by the door after a few hours of hard labor for us both. You could see the difference in the two kinds of boxes because the color of the font was slightly different.
Me: Uh Oh.
Dad: What's Wrong?
Me: You can't have a Hunter Green next to a Forest Green?
Dad: Slams the door in my face
It was absolutely hilarious when it occured and the perfect retort to what I said.
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