Stories of your father

my dad and my brother always used to play chess. this was when my brother was maybe 10 or 12. the thing was, my dad had a policy of never letting his kids win. after playing a hundred games of chess, my brother had him. there was no backing out. but before my brother could actually put him in check my dad reached out and laid down his own king, flicking him down.
it's not like beating your kids, but it's something.

My husband's father (my father in law) was a cop. He used to drink a lot and eat a lot of pain killers. He is an enormous man that can pick up cinder blocks effortlessly with one hand. My husband was once playing with a spiderman toy at about age 6 that was supposed to attach to the wall somehow so that it would sort of climb and it kept falling off. He kept trying to get it to work to no avail and during one of the falls from the wall, a small piece of plastic part broke off (I can't remember which part). His father, who was doing some kind of work on the house, passed by and my husband asked for help, "Dad, my spiderman toy won't climb." His father took it from him, saw the broken piece and became enraged. He slammed Spiderman to the ground and stomped on it, crushing it into a thousand pieces and said, "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HAVE ANYTHING IF YOU CAN'T LEARN TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR THINGS!" and stomped off.

One of the funnier things my father used to do was get me out of the bathroom as quickly as possible whenever he had to pee. I'd be washing my hands and he'd barge in to force me out so he could use the toilet. Then he'd always say something like, "Why do you wash your hands for? Do you think you're a doctor?" We had three bathrooms in the house, but my dad was really impatient.

Every so often my dad would get abusive as well, but he was always quick to apologize. Once he took me to the movies to make up for hitting me and when we got to the parking lot he said, "I can never do enough, can I? A lot of fathers are at home watching the hockey game, but you wanna go to the movies!" It kind of defeated the purpose.

And every time he does even the slightest thing for me, my brother or my sister he makes sure we know that he didn't have to. Like it's some huge favor to pick your kid up from soccer practice when they aren't even old enough to ride the bus.

My all time favorite though was when I was seven years-old he made me go to my cousins birthday party even though we didn't get along. I was really sick when I was younger so I couldn't eat the McDonald's food and my mom mad a special meal for me to bring. All the kids made fun of me and to avoid embarrassment from his brother my dad joined in calling me funny names. I ended up purposefully ripping open a packet of pepper so hard that it would burst in my eye just so I could go home.

Looking back now it's all kind of funny, but at the time I remember being pretty upset.

here is my dad's total sex advice:

son, be like the trains, and pull out on time

not really being a dick per se, but funny

that's funny. my dad said something pretty similar.
the scene: we're in front of the tv. star trek the next generation is playing.
players: me, nine years old or so. dad, drunk
Scene:
Dad: "Always, always use a condom. But if you shove it in up to your balls? Pfff..."
fin

[QUOTE=tomstrong83;972857]that's funny. my dad said something pretty similar.
the scene: we're in front of the tv. star trek the next generation is playing.
players: me, nine years old or so. dad, drunk
Scene:
Dad: "Always, always use a condom. But if you shove it in up to your balls? Pfff..."
fin[/QUOTE]

I'm curious to know what the answer to that question was... But if you shove it up to your balls what???

Oh yeah. Here's a cool one. I was laying stretched out in the floor watching television when I was about 11 or 12. My dad comes into the house holding the recently assembled components of a carbuerator and when he goes to walk past me, I pull my legs up so he can walk by, but instead end up accidentally tripping him. He drops all the carb pieces everywhere and kicks me in the side so hard that I leave the floor. Awesome...

Do step-father stories count too?

about a year before he died my father sat across the room from me and with his eyes staring at nothing and spittle flying out of his mouth spent ten minutes angrily telling me what a worthless horrible human being i was, his dachsund was terrified by this outburst and crawled onto my lap shaking. I really had no response, and truth is figured he was talking about himself. When he died apparently he told my brother how much he loved me but really thats the kind of thing people make up right.

I've got no stories about my own dad, but a girlfriend I had a couple years ago (read: two or three (read: two)) invited me round to her house. This was during my myspace-vegan days. Her mother had gone out of her way to make something I could eat, and I was quite humbled by this, and kept saying she didn't have to, it was alright, I'd eat anything, I was hungry. Anyway, it came to dinner and we were eating - that being me, the girl, her older a sister and a friend that was fucking her older sister, who despite being my age passed off for older infront of her parents, anyway - we were eating and I was in the room by myself eating, because they'd all gone to do something or help with something and I was told to stay. Her dad walks in and asks why I'm eating so slowly, do I not like his wife's cooking, I say it's delicious and I'm savouring the taste, and he walks off. I start eating faster. Later on she said next time I went round, eat slower, her dad said I ate too fast. The cunt. I think I had the last laugh in that situation though.

Her father was a dick to me, does that count? I know he was looking after his daughter and that, but Christ, what a prick. Anyway, he said I intimidated him, Stupid fucker.

Also, I remember another friend's dad shouting his head off at my friend because her top was too low. He really made a scene about it. She went really red. It was sort of sad.

Mine needs a kidney and when I offered mine he said he didn't want it. Not dickish at all really, he probably just thought he was being noble.
I don't know, I don't really have any stories of him in a poor light, he's too nice a guy.

A friend of mine had a horrible dad though. He would bite the heads off animals if you asked him and provided the animal. He was under this whole delusion that he was a Hell's Angel. Despite never having owned a motorcycle.

My dad is very reasonable, and has only hit me once when I was six years old. I stood up on my chair in a restaraunt and yelled, "Nice hat, old man!" to a jewish guy, and he picked me up off the chair and walked me right to the car, drove me home, and kicked my ass. My uncle is far, far worse. He used to beat my cousin all the time.

(standing in the foyer beside the basement stairs)
Uncle: What are those?
(pointing down at my cousin's sandles. He HATES sandles and this is well known)
Cousin: Umm, Sandles?
*Bang* Threw him down the fuckin stairs, just like that.

Another time my brother, my cousin, and his sister (also my cousin, obviously) and I were building lego trucks, and my cousin's wasn't quite working out so he decided to smash it. Not the brightest guy in the world when it came to the understanding of density, I guess, because only a few pieces fell off when it if hit our brand new hardwood floor. It made a loud bang but didn't chip the floor, and then my uncle came running in and asked what the sound was. The lego, the floor, my cousin's typical idiocy...he knew exactly what happened, you could tell. My cousin said he [I]dropped[/I] his lego truck on the floor. Though my dad wasn't around, my uncle would have been extremely embarassed if his son had of chipped my dad's floor, the kind of embarasment that only comes with angry guys that like beating their young.

Uncle: You dropped it on the floor, or you slammed it on the floor like a clown?
Cousin: I dropped it! I swear!
(we were all sitting on the floor in a bit of a circle)
Uncle: Did he drop it, or did he slam it on the floor like a clown?
Brother: He dropped it.
(looking at me now)
Uncle: Did he drop it, or did he slam it on the floor like a clown?
Me: Dropped it.
(to his daughter, his little princess, the one he never beat)
Uncle: Did he drop it, or did he slam it on the floor like a clown?
Her: He slammed it on the floor like a clown!
*bang* Full fledged punch to the fucking [I]temple[/I], man. My cousin landed on the opposite side of his face.

You need to add in adverbs when describing child violence, like, "cruelly" or "savagely" otherwise they end up funny.

Thank you all for your replies. I really appreciate all of you for being so willing to share your stories with me. They've all been extremely helpful. Oh, and yes, step-father stories are perfectly fine.

thank you

my father is a genious. he can build speaker cabinets that rival anything you can buy anywhere. i can talk to him about guitar tone for hours. only, hes just very quiet. i cant hardly ever really talk to him. sometimes it seems like my brother in law is more of a son than i am.
i just remember pretending to be a pirate and having sword fights with him when i was little.
now, i think hes ashamed to be the father of someone like me.

Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: Kent, England
Posts: 10,296
Mine needs a kidney and when I offered mine he said he didn't want it. Not dickish at all really, he probably just thought he was being noble.
I don't know, I don't really have any stories of him in a poor light, he's too nice a guy.

Have stories, but i cannot top this, 2bsure

My estranged step-dad pretty much raised me. He was good crazy AND bad crazy, meaning half of the time he was total asshole. Very cranky and power-trippish. When things didn't go his way, he'd go off like a time-bomb.

One time when he tried to fix the weed eater, he came out from the garage and started smashing it against the pavement, yelling out curses.

Another time, when my mom took off to the store (this was before cell phones), he needed cigarettes, but it was too late to tell her. So he shouted and over turned every chair at the kitchen table except for the one I was sitting at, a half-chewed bite of sandwich in my 13 year old mouth, scared shitless.

Many of the doorjams in the house were broken from when he slammed the doors shut. A hole punched into the wall. Broken telephones.

He was also a drug addict and alcoholic. He would ingest anything that came his way, no questions asked. The old man spent a couple days in a mental hospital once. And one time I left my G.I. Joe plane in the snow, and he ran over it on purpose!

Most of the time he only thought about himself. He neglected my mother, and when she left him -- everything was her fault. He would send her hate mail and use the children to communicate obscene, dissillusioned thoughts.

Oh yeah, and he got my little sister hooked on drugs and alcohol. She's been arrested twice.

I could go on all day about this crap. I'll probably write a book about it some day. Or mention it in my memoir. But you can't copyright an idea, so feel free to exploit my childhood. Ha ha. Just kidding.

I'd be interested to read your story when you're done!

I don´t have stories about my dad... in fact I don´t think that I had a conversation with him in my life. He´s a good man (maybe too damn good for his own sake) but alcohol has ruined him leaving him in a really bad state, he´s lost in his own world... but I have a friend whose father used to be a cop, and a very corrupt and violent one. One day my friends dad enters the house and noticing for the first time that his son was taller than him, he took his gun out, pointed at him and tell him.. "remember this... you are taller than me now... but I can always put a bullet through your head"

My dad, who we'll call 'Neat Nazi', was always strict about being organized and well-dressed and clothes had to be ironed. Ever since the divorce I haven't cleaned my room since Clinton left office, I don't know the workings of an Ironer. And if my room gets cleaned, my mom cleans it, I feel out of place and uncomfortable.

Now when I go visit my dad he sees these flaws in me and proclaims, "If I was around you wouldn't be so messy, you jeans wouldn't have holes in them and your shirt wouldn't look pulled out of the bottem of the hamper."

Best advices my dads given me:

"Don't get married."
"What the authorities can't prove, didn't happen."
"Nobody likes a show-off"

[URL=http://www.amazon.com/gp/cdp/member-reviews/A1IKOUI05H9IM7/ref=cm_pdp_about_see_review/002-9665051-5131261?ie=UTF8&sort%5Fby=MostRecentReview]http://www.amazon.com/gp/cdp/member-reviews/A1IKOUI05H9IM7/ref=cm_pdp_about_see_review/002-9665051-5131261?ie=UTF8&sort%5Fby=MostRecentReview[/URL]
My brother sent me this link. The reviewer is our longlost, long gone father. Scroll down and read the review of the second book from the bottom.

throughout my whole childhood my father was a sort of stubborn bastard who would blow his top every five minutes. beat my mother all the time. wasn't a drunk, but he drank. he was cool to me and my brothers but he was a dick to my sisters. he was pretty much a miserable human being to be around.

now, like fifteen years later, he's in a wheelchair. and we all have to push him around. he doesn't talk much.

my grandpa was in WW2, and apparently a real prick when my dad was growing up. He would beat them, and as a classic father of that period he and his sons never had a really close relationship of any real substance other than that they are relatives. I've always loved the simple irony of being too busy thinking about his father that didn't give a shit about him to really give a shit about me..