A few weeks ago when the podiatrist placed a death grip on my sore toe, I gritted my teeth. I wanted to jerk my toe away. As soon as he felt me tense, the doc calmly said, "I'm just going to look at it." I snorted.
My dad always made that exact comment during my childhood. I knew that meant my dad, and now the doc, planned to 'look' at the toe, first, of course, but that they each planned to proceed 'operating' without telling me. I've had numerous splinters removed with a needle by the art of looking. The thought of my childhood and my dad made me smile. I knew this trick.
Traveling down Memory Lane, I remembered my favorite expression Dad used to say during children's arguments -- "I don't care who started it; I'm going to end it." The arguments presented to Dad by each kid who blamed another sibling for causing a problem, always ended quickly. I smile now realizing how well Dad ended any commotion. He didn't have to be a judge listening to cases. He simply banged the gavel, ending each case with his saying.
Sure, all of us siblings knew the occasional reminders we received during childhood -- "Don't bang the screen door," and "Turn off the basement light," but we also heard, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." If any of us pouted, a parent or even grandparent, would say, "Go to the garden and eat worms. Big, fat juicy ones, and little, squirmy, skinny ones. Oh, how they wiggle when they squirm."
Mom's warning which came to us during serious times, "Wait till your dad gets home," always struck fear into my heart if my crime seemed that severe. I knew if Mom directed that comment to me, I faced big trouble, and I probably needed to do what my middle brother used to do -- put on all my underwear as padding in case my dad would find it necessary to take his belt off and beat my butt.
Maybe comments from your parents have stuck in your minds, too.
