What's the worst thing an adult/parent told you as a kid?
I remember being told I was adopted and they would ship me back if I didn't mend my ways by one uncle. Mom set that straight but it had me fretting for awhile.
There was the usual that your face will stick like that when making a face.
go hoe the weeds out of that garden!
The devil or boogie man would get me if I didn't do my chores.
Jeff "Jesse" James - Owner of Jesse's Hunting & Outdoors
You can always tell who's in 2nd place by who's whining and crying the most. - Old hockey coach.
Dum spiramus tuebimur
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"In the beginning of a change, the patriot is a brave and scarce man, hated and scorned. When the cause succeeds, however, the timid join him... for then it costs nothing to be a patriot." -Mark Twain
i once had an uncle that yanked my nose off and held it in his hand, even showed it to me and wouldnt give it back.
then there was the Cooties torment.
we also had a family friend that used to tell me all the time that the freckles on my face made me look like someone threw cow sh*t at me through a screen door.
i think i could go on and on, but wont.
Hell Aint a Bad Place To Be
I once had an uncle tell me that he lost his missing fingers while picking boogers. Kept my fingers out of there for a little while. As far as I'm concerned, that's still the straight story on the missing fingers.
My dad, God bless him, used to tell me I could "screw up an anvil with a feather duster." I've spent most of my life since then trying to prove differently.
Thank you for reading my post!
My mom told me she cried when she found out she was pregnant with me. Of course, she was 29 had 3 kids, two boys ages 6,4 and a girl, 9mos. My brother came to the rescue and told her. "But mommy, we need a Jimmy." Instead they got a Jill. I don't really consider it a mean statement. She said something like "and to think I cried when I found out I was pregnant with you."
I remember one time we went to a Chinese restraunt for dinner. I was pretty young probably 4 or 5. At the time I wasn't too fond of Chinese food so I ordered a hamburger. After dinner when the waitress brought the check. She told me I had to go back in the kitchen and do dishes because I had American food in a Chinese restraunt. My parents went along with it. Needless to say I was prety upset.
My folks have a unique sense of humor. When I was about 12 or 13, Mom took me to the mall to do some shopping for some clothes. Well, aparently I had done something to get on mom's bad side that day and she was tired of trying to keep me in line, so when we walked out into the middle of the mall, she rares back and hits me with her purse. Not only was she hitting me with her purse, but she was shouting "mugger, mugger" at the same time. All in plain view of the mall security. I didn't now what to do, if I ran, then they would think I really was a mugger, and if I didn't, she would keep hitting me.
The moral of the story, as I was told was that if I embarrased mom by acting up in public, she would get even.
My therapist says everything will be okay.
". . .One Nation, Under God, Indivisible. . ."
The worst for me was when dad told me he "didn't want me hunting in the same woods with him!"
I had two older brothers who had worn out all his patience. He never taught me anything, except stay away from where he hunted.
To this day, I still hunt, but had to learn on my own. Both brothers seldom if ever have hunted since their teens.
Dad really knew the outdoors and taught another guy enough that he opened up a bait shop that grew into a sporting goods shop.
I still hurt because dad never took any time to teach me anything he knew.
I thought he hated me.
I asked him about it when he was on his last few years, and all I got for an answer was, my brothers screwed up so much he didn't want to try again.
I remember my mom telling me that she would send me to Spain to finish my schooling if I didn't do better in school.
Guajiro Cubano A.K.A. "Cuban-American Redneck Extraordinaire "
At about five years old, my mom took my back to Wisconsin for my grandfather's funeral. I had never met him. I had grown up in Anaheim & suddenly I was stuck on some farm in the middle of nowhere. The only cool thing I could find was the outhouse my mom used as a little girl. By the second day I was a holy terror. Uncle Milt took me out to the back porch and said " Your mom told me that if you keep goofin' off, that I can drop you off over that hill and the Indians will come & skin you alive". I've been back to the farm about ten times and I ALWAYS remember that threat.
Luckily, I'm taking my son back to the farm for his great-grandma's 97th birthday in July. I can't wait to pass along the tradition.
A man's footprints in life are only as deep as the ones that follow in his steps.
If you ever make your mom cry again, I'll bash your head in. It worked!
Go Get 'em, One Track
I was about 5-6 years old and my grandparents (dad side) still lived on the farm. We would load up and drive out every Sunday after church and have dinner. "Big Momma" could really cook but her best specialities were desserts. Cakes that looked a foot tall and light as a feather. Candies - pralenes - and pies... I loved her warm chocolate pies. Had a meranque piled high on top of a thick filling in a flakey crust.
It all came crashing down one Sunday when "Big Daddy" and I had gone out to feed the stock and it was calving season. He had some calves that were nursing rather vigoursly and had a milk froth around their mouth, dripping and drooling... He tells me.. " That reminds me.. your Big Momma needs some topping for the pie she is cooking for dinner.." I looked and him and asked what he was talking about... He tells me.. pointing to the calves mouth, " that's what she uses for the topping on her chocolate pies.. CALF SLOBBER.." I refused to eat another bit of any of her pies for almost a year...
But I got over it......
"Don't be too optomistic, the light at the end of the tunnel MAY be an oncoming TRAIN!"