the things we did to dad

BigBill

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The things we did as kids that made dad mad???

Dad built an awesome heavy work bench. With a Masonite top on top of a 2" x 12" planks. It was solid. Us four brothers had a new boy scout axe we kept near the bench. Every time one of us was down stairs near the bench it was our duty to chop a vee in the edge of the top of the bench. Two chops minimum. We had a good sized vee cut into the bench when the old man caught me swinging the axe. The four of us caught the wrath of the old man for sure. The 50's were great times for us not dad.

So what did you do as kids to make your dad mad??
 
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Used to borrow his tools and leave them in the house.The worst was doing that and leaving the door open on the tool box mounted on the side of the bed of his truck.He pulled out of the garage the next morning and took the garage door track with him [emoji56]
 
I can only remember angering dad twice. The firs was when my friend and I played hockey with two of his putters.:eek: We were 8 and had just come home from our first pro hockey game. We didn't know better.

The second, and more disappointing, was when I quit scouts before making Eagle. Now that I'm older I understand why dad was so upset about it. I wish I could go back and fix it for him.
 
My misguided yoot culminated the morning after driving my father's the prior night. My father left for work at his usual 6:00 am and made it exactly 2 doors down before running out of gas.

In retrospect, I shoulda stopped for a buck of gas while I was out.
 
My dad made his living with his tools. All the things that angered my dad had to do with them. The general annoyance was that I didn't put them back when I used them or when I did put them back, I didn't put them back in the right drawer. Not cleaning them after use. When I did use them I didn't use them properly; screw drivers used as pry bars punches. Using ratchet heads, handles of various tools as hammers ect. He banned me from his toolbox(es).

The other thing I had a habit of doing was taking things apart and not putting them back together. I just wanted to see how it worked...:o:(:rolleyes:
 
Dad took me fishing at Aurora Lake (Ohio) back in the 50's. Toward evening we were packing stuff in the car, leaving for home. He asked me if all the gear from my side of the car was accounted for and packed. Of course, without thinking, I replied "YES". Dad's wicker creel was on the ground and we arrived home without it.
I got scolded, but not beaten. Taught me a lesson to be more careful, and to be more patient with others when they screwed up.
Dave
 
I cannot think of a moment I did something to piss off my dad, although I know time will help me remember. For now, this is one that my sister was responsible for. As a kid, one time when they were at a fast food joint, my father offered to help my sister open a ketchup packet she was struggling with. She refused, and managed to finally get it open by herself, but at the expense of all the ketchup squirting all over my dad.
 
Dad had a habit of unplugging his power tools if he needed to walk away for a short time. I had a habit of finger fiddling on/off switches. I was permanently cured of my youthful idiocy when Dad plugged in the router he was using to recess drawer pulls in an ebony desk.
 
At about age 5, I abandoned Dad's fly rod on a sandbar next to Spring Creek. Guess I wasn't catching any trout and found something more fun to pursue, like grasshoppers. The reel got packed with sand :eek: and he had to send it in for service. I heard about that for decades. Thereafter, I was taught that one's reel NEVER touched the ground. If you had to set your rod down to change a fly, unhook a trout, or whatever, the butt end went in your hat. And that's all there was to it! I miss that man.
 
My dad was a pipe smoker, when my brother and I were little we would pretend to smoke them and get spit in the bowl. he would get upset. But using his tools, not cleaning paint brushes, forgetting our chores, was bad enough. as I got older borrowing his car with out his knowing than getting caught that was a lecture I have not forgotten. The punishment wasn't bad, but knowing we/I disappointed him was worse.
 
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I remember watching the late late show with my sister when I was about 12, and remembering, at about 0100, that I had left my dad's saw up in my tree house. I went out with a flashlight, climbed the tree, retrieved the saw, and put it back in its place in the garage before finally going to sleep.

My dad was okay with me using his tools, but the deal was I had to put 'em back in their proper places when I was done.
 
I now know my Pop must have been angry with me many times, (and disappointed at my shenanigans too ), but the only time I feared for my behind's well being from him, (mom's job) was when I turned the button on the outside of the "johnny-house" with him in it.

He had worked about 20 days in a row on midnight shift, and it was a bad time to play a joke.

His yell was so angry for me to come unlock the "damn" door,(I had NEVER heard him cuss anything !) I ran and hid behind the barn, and was scared to go twist it unlatched.
He ended up kicking the door off the bottom set of hinges.

I heard him telling mom what happened through the opened kitchen window, and she, (always a little on the "devilish" side) got hysterical with laughter; and thank Lord, he soon joined her.

My Pop was the best of the best ! Long passed now, but I still think of him most days. Not sure I always had that much patience with my own two boys, but,.. they were better kids than me.
 
My dad chewed Skoal. When I was a teenager I bought him a can for his birthday. He was appreciative, but didn't know I had taken out half the tobacco and replaced it with dried horse poop. Fortunately he has a great sense of humor because I didn't tell him until after he finished the can.
 
I once took his car for a ride around a State Park while attending a Boy Scout event - I was only 14 at the time and was with my best friend at that time. When I pulled it back into the parking space, he was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest with a look that is still engrained in my head. He did not even bother to ask me where I learned to drive a stick shift car. That's about the maddest I'd ever seen him. If memory serves I was grounded for months!
 
My dad chewed Skoal. When I was a teenager I bought him a can for his birthday. He was appreciative, but didn't know I had taken out half the tobacco and replaced it with dried horse poop. Fortunately he has a great sense of humor because I didn't tell him until after he finished the can.

Man...... that's a mean one!:eek:
 
Well, being underage I opted to try my hand at wine making, rather than resort to the more common straw purchase means of ethanol acquisition.
The operation was fairly sizable for the space I had in my room.
Poo happens as we all know, and one of the several glass gallon jugs burst, making a lovely liquid mess that I promptly cleaned up.
Unfortunately, much of this batch leaked through the floor, taking a one in a million route along a joist, and collecting in the bowl of a light fixture in my father's cabinet down below.
This went unnoticed for a few weeks, allowing me to finish the covert booze production operation, and move on to stashing the goods.
Well, a good portion ended up at the thanksgiving dinner table.
You see ... I was summoned to his den and he turned on the light, when this lovely burgundy light streamed fourth....
"Son .... you wouldn't have any explanation about how this light ended up full of wine. Do you? "
I knew I was busted, but replied" I'd like to have that explained to me just as soon as you figure it out"
in retrospect, I think I would have rather responded with "IT'S A MIRACLE"
we only live once.
 
When we were traveling to Alaska back in '53 on the early Alcan Highway we stopped somewhere to eat breakfast, I was around 2 years old. They put some mush in front of me and for some reason I wouldn't eat it, my dad was irate and took me out behind the shack and paddled me...I ate the mush.
Years later I was around 15 or 16, a buddy and I had been exploring a cave in the nearby mountains and were late getting back by hours, my mother was beside herself and about ready to call the Sheriff's Posse when we came into view. All she said was "You wait for your father to get home." He came home late as usual and I met him at the door, he said "Are you OK?" I said "Yes Sir" He said "Is Jeff OK?" I said "Yes Sir" and BAM he gave me the back of his hand and sent me sprawling in the coat closet. He picked me up and said "You know why I did that?" I said "No Sir" He said "Because I love you."
Thats it, the only two times I think I ever really upset my dad, we didn't spend alot of time together until I moved in with him after having had enough of my mother, we had that much in common. We lived together in his little batchelor pad behind his office, it was great...we were both lousy housekeepers and once had a cantalope plant growing out of the sink that neither one of us had the heart to pull out, it finally grew out of the sink and was heading for the light coming through the window, my girlfriend had trouble with the blocked sink and pulled it out while trying to clean up the kitchen. That was the best time I had with my dad, we batched together for close to a year, ate alot of t.v. dinners.
 
My dad was an electrician for the long Island railroad. He brought home a dry cell battery box with an extremely loud buzzer mounted on it. He was doing some electrical work in the house. And used the box to ring wires so he knew which ones he wanted. Stuck the box under the bed while he was sleeping. Touched two wire and the buzzer went off. Nothing happened, did it again same result. So we decided to leave the wires attached for a longer time. That did it. He jumped out of the bed and found the battery box. We took off as we decided we had better not be around when he came downstairs. Mom had heard the box buzzing and by the time we came flying down the stairs she was cracking up. Next day the box went back to work. Frank
 
When I was in middle school, I remember in class we had our desks grouped into four desks. Two facing two. There was a tiny gap in the center, and this class clown was trying to get my to look down it so he could give a quick whack. Well I guess after him being unsuccessful, he decided to look down it on his own. I was quick and gave him a good whack.

We ended up in the principals office, and were told the stunt would land us both in after school detention. I talked to my father, pleading he get me out of the extra hour detention. He called the principal and somehow I wound up with a Saturday detention :rolleyes:
 
In 1st grade I brought a kitchen knife to school because there was going to be cake!

In 1st grade I ran around the house like a stealthy ninja and stole money from everyone. Mom, dad, grandma. I was going to give it back, just wanted to show of in school to other kids.

1st grade, maybd 2nd. Stole ice cream. Class mate rated me out

All those ended with a butt whooping.

7 years old. While playing at my cousin's house on the swings......the type of swing that made out of rope and knots hold the wood planks in place. My cousin, who was the same age, got her head stuck in between those wooden planks. I freaked out and ran home but didn't tell anyone. She was there stuck like that for a few hours. More butt whooping followed.

Playing outside, trying to hit a rock with a stick I swung and hit my other cousin in the nose, she was behind me. Freaked out and ran away. I was 7 she was 5. Leaving a 5 year old in the middle of the street crying and bleeding.

Decided to play a joke on dad. Went to our only tv and turned the brightes and contrast to black and the volume to mute. This way when he turned it on it would appear to be off. He tried on and off several times, played with the antena, tried unplugging it...etc...etc...When I finally showed him what I did I went flying across the room.

At my friend's apartment we made water balloons and threw them down at people. Ended up hitting someone who knew his parents. We both got a butt whooping by his mom.

All this and more before I turned 9
 
As far as I remember, I never made my dad THAT angry. He had a very abusive father, and swore he'd never put us through what he went through.

That being said, there WERE a couple times he'd get this look on his face that said "I'm willing to die to kill you right now". But I don't remember what it was I did.

Only time I ever messed with him would be when I was a kid out hunting with him. I'd sneakily rustle some leaves and his head would be going back and forth like a prairie dog looking for the "deer". I didn't tell him I did that until I was an adult.
 
Failing to live up to my potential and believing house rules were for others were probably my two biggest. I frequently heard the "You kids make me so damn mad I could swear" sent in my direction.
OTOH, he let us use his tools, showed us how and what not to use when he was gone. Welders were OK but power saws were not. He demanded a lot and rewarded a lot, it just took a few years to see it.
 
My Mom and dad left town for the weekend..I was 15 and thought it might be a good idea to take my Dads work car for a drive..It was a '55 Chevy Nomad, with a tool box in back with his hand tools inside..I picked up a couple of buddies and went for a heck of a ride..Well the tool box tipped over and the tools were scattered all over the back of the car..
No way I could get the tools the way he had them arranged in the box..
BUSTED ! He was not a happy camper..I tried to blame him for leaving the car key's behind..That didn't fly either..:o
 
I did a lot of things to piss my dad off, way to many things to list. I sometimes wonder if that is why I was blessed with satins daughter.
Sure do miss him and his stories.
 
Back in the 60's I would always used Dads Buick Riviera to go to the Drive In Movies.. The car was huge and would maybe get 8 miles to the gallon.. One Monday evening I got home from my afternoon job and sitting at the table was Dad and a Beer Can with a big dent in the side (beer cans were made of heavy tin back then).. Guess what rolled under the Brake Pedal when I was pulling into the gas station this morning ?? For over 45 years he never let me forget that day.. and laughingly remind my kids...
Rest In Peace Dad I miss you every day
 

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