well-playedPersonally I dislike my father, but most people love theirs, even after all those years of lies and deceit. Granted I suppose fathers, even more than mothers make up for all that crap they put on you, I really wouldn’t know that is just what I have heard. But I want to clear the air, at least from a boy’s point of view.

Your father starts out telling you lies, almost from the time you are born, until you or he dies. I suppose you do not believe me. Ya, I think it is more like you do not want to remember. It is not like you see on The Brady Bunch, Father Knows Best, Bonanza, it is more like on The Fosters gosh a show that actually shows that fathers and mothers are not cardboard cutouts. But I have to say this, the old shows were trying to teach parents how to be parents, not glorifying an insane family. (the individuals on the Fosters are not insane, but as a family they are)

Now do not get me wrong he tells you the truth too, see this is the testing phase, do you believe him or not. This phase will teach you to respect what your father says, such as “Don’t touch that stove it is hot!” so you learn to fear stoves, and ovens and never learn how to cook… look at how many girls are so afraid of stoves they make you take them to MickyD’s for a dinner. How disgusting. The point is, he was not lying, that builds your faith in him! Amazing how that works right?

Then he gives you something abstract, backed up by your mother, “Eat those nasty tasting carrots, you ate them when you were a baby, it makes your eyesight better” Well that is a lie, there is not enough beta-carotene in your serving of carrots do to much of anything. If you ate enough of them so that it did help your eye sight you would die of too many carrots. That is a fact.

For boys only: Your dad, when you are about eleven or twelve will tell you “if you play with it too much you will go blind” Well my friend that is a lie too cause you eat carrots right? But lets go beyond that, you turn twenty-one and you are watching your dad. He is reading something off a paper and keeps adjusting his glasses. I suppose most of you would think poor dad. I didn’t. I thought and said aloud, “Well if you didn’t play with it so much you wouldn’t be going blind!” Luckily I can outrun my father. It is old age that makes your eyesight weak, not touching yourself, and surely has nothing to do with not eating carrots… then on the other hand my BFF doesn’t like to eat carrots, he has 20/20 vision but is still blind…. so maybe there is some truth to that, either that or he touches himself a lot more than most boys do. Does this apply to girls? I have no idea I am not a girl, but statistically I think it would.

My point to all of this, is that your dad, your mom, you if you have children, are constantly lying to them and you do not even realize it. Enough of those lies build up and they will never trust you in the end. I never trusted my dad, ever. but I am one of billions I suppose. What lies did your dad tell you? Or your mom for that matter!

 

 

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2 Thoughts on “Fathers are not like they show in sitcoms

  1. I was born in 1951 and my father was in the military until I was 9 years old. He was one of 6 kids;I was 1 of 5, the oldest and the only boy. His vision of the perfect son was probably closest to “Father Knows Best” in that, when he had time for me, I was expected to enjoy playing catch, had to wash the car every week, and soak/dry paper off of the stamps that he ordered for his collection. Unfortunately for him, what he got was a shy boy who preferred to go to the library and check out books…mostly about Greek mythology. My mother was a housewife and mostly dealt with my sisters. The only time that we “got into it” was when she made spinach one time for supper and I stubbornly refused to eat it. She would not let me leave the table until I tried it. I sat there for a couple hours and finally won. She eventually got a job after my father divorced her while I was in the military. She, along with my elder sister, got into dogs and going to dog shows. That sort of ended when my sister died from colitis in 1981.

  2. Ha Ha Ha 😛

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