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Memories of Daddy, Post 38: Daddy Could See Red With His Children For Only So Long.

DISCLAIMER: There may be multiple opportunities during this story for people to make smart-ass remarks. Please refrain from doing so, even though I may be setting myself up for it. Thank you 😅.


I think it's pretty typical that parents don't condone their children swearing. Daddy was no different. And for some reason (most likely simple bad luck... yeah that's it...), Daddy only ever seemed to be around when I swore. I wouldn't do it frequently, just when I was having one of my temper tantrums.


There was one time that was particularly epic and literally made me LOL. I believe i was in middle school. Daddy and I had gotten into a particularly heated argument in the kitchen, and I lost control and screamed


"F&$K YOU!!!"


to Daddy. The exact nanosecond after I said that, I thought in my head "oh shit, run". I took a quick glance at Daddy, saw his face building up in anger, his eyes filling with rage, and I got the "f&$k" outta there.


I booked it up the stairs with Daddy in close pursuit, screaming at me. I then ran down the hallway to our bathroom and was able to slam it shut and lock it a second before Daddy reached it. He pounded on the door, screaming at me to get out of the bathroom. I was terrified since, up to this point, I don't think Daddy ever had gotten this mad at me (well, maybe that time I kicked my sis in the stomach - see Post #24).


I was a fat kid and loved to eat. I think Daddy realized that and just waited outside the door for over an hour, essentially trying to starve his pray out of hiding (yes, there may be some degree of sensationalization). I think Daddy underestimated the extent of my fat stores, and he eventually relented.


Finally, Mummy came upstairs, asked me to come out of the bathroom, and after ensuring that Daddy wasn't there, I came out of the bathroom. I went downstairs, and I saw Daddy there. I said sorry and he accepted my apology. And that was it (sorry guys, no spectacular finish!).


The point is, no matter what, Daddy could never stay angry at his children for too long. He didn't want to have a bad relationship with us, and as stated before in Post #4, it devastated him when we stayed angry at him.


I didn't make it easy on Daddy having a kid like me, but Daddy (for the most part) sure made it easy on me having a dad like him.


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