More flashbacks

Sunday must have been a go-back day. A day to let my mind wander to the years I was growing up. I suspect it is because I haven't seen my parents in a while, so I'm missing them more than usual.

I was thinking about my dad. My mother was never one of those "wait until your father gets home" types. The punishment was always swift, and immediate. But, and this was a huge deal in our household, we had to tell dad what we had done when he came home. He never added to the punishment, but had this way of looking at you that would break even the toughest kid's heart. We always knew that he was disappointed in us, and our behavior, decisions or whatever the situation. As the only girl, disappointing dad was devastating to me. As I look back on it now, I'd imagine that's why they did it. It really reinforced what behaviors were acceptable, and what wasn't. It was very effective. To this very day, I have a difficult time divulging information that I know they do not want to hear. No mommy, please, spank me, ground me for the rest of my life, make me clean my brothers underwear but puleeze don’t make me tell daddy that! I promise I’ll never do it again! You think I’m kidding? The memories of those days are enough to make me start twitching again. I try to avoid that because then the voices get louder (Eat that piece of cake Moogie, no one will notice. So what if it's right before dinner? Come on, you know you want to).

We were pretty scared of him as well. The man never laid a hand on us but he certainly had our number. I can remember sitting next to my mother and brothers in church. Dad would be an usher, and we kids would be fidgeting around, and he would be walking down the aisle, taking up the offering. When “the look” from mom didn’t work (oh, I see you know that one as well), dad would just grab hold of his belt and hitch up his pants. Mom said that none of us would make as much as a peep or a move in any direction during the rest of the service after he did that.

Being scared of him didn’t seem to deter the fact that we wanted to play with him whenever possible and he was always a willing participant. Dad traveled quite a bit for his job, so there were a lot of absences. I remember I had a doll named Karen. Karen was probably close to my height but I really loved her. I can remember asking dad to hold her, and he would sit down and put Karen on his lap. He would admire her pretty hair, which I had no doubt, just put 27 hair bands in, complete with matching barrettes. One day, I asked my dad if he wanted to feed Karen, and he obliged (what a guy). The thing is, Karen was one of those dolls that you fed with a bottle, and the water just came out the bottom (i.e. the butt) right away…..only I didn’t tell my father that. To this day I maintain that I did not do that on purpose, but for some reason my entire family doesn’t believe me. Go figure. Be that as it may, my mother told me I laughed out loud when my dad lifted Karen off of his lap and found a big wet spot. My mom said it took a while for me to calm down. But I really didn’t do that on purpose, honest. Really.

My father also had a big appetite for poker chips. It was rumored that he preferred the blue one’s, but he never told me that. He didn't want to stress me out. I had an old pot and pan set that my mother gave me to play with. I even had some wooden spoons. I remember “cooking” up a feast of chips for my father, dishing it up on my fancy dishes and presenting it to my father as if it was a meal fit for a king. He of course, always told me it was. It was a while before I thought to ask him what he did with all of those poker chips. He told me that after I went to bed, he and my mother would fish them out of the cushions in the couch.

He had a lot of patience back then. He still does. I don’t know how he does it.

No mother, of course I didn’t mean to run over the little dog next door. Yes, I know he barks a lot and yes, that bothered me. Yeah…I agree, I guess I shouldn’t have tried to run over the owner as well. Her hair will grow back, really, and so will her roses…you’re not gonna make me tell dad are you?

What about you? Do you have an special memories about your parents? Post a comment or email them to me. I'll put them up on Moogie's World.