Blame Your Dad

[NightskyeB4Dawn]

I found this interesting. At least something to think about.

My pet peeve is people blaming everything and anything on others, without ever stopping to think about how their personal thoughts, beliefs, and actions may have contributed to the problem.

So this resonated with me a little bit.

Picture this, I'm chillin' at lunch with some very successful people, right? We're shootin' the breeze, sharing stories, and guess what? We all realize something crazy—each one of us has something we can only blame our dads for. Can you believe it?

[kdog]

The only thing I can blame my dad for was not being around much because of him working out of town all the time and when was home, didn't want to have anything to do with me much. 

But, because of that , it made me a better dad to my kids, spending as much time with them as I could , helping take care of them and doing chores around the house. 

So I took a negative thing and changed it into a positive thing. I hate people who blame others for all their problems. You are an adult, you are responsible for your actions.

[NightskyeB4Dawn]

The only thing I can blame my dad for was not being around much because of him working out of town all the time and when was home, didn't want to have anything to do with me much. 

But, because of that , it made me a better dad to my kids, spending as much time with them as I could , helping take care of them and doing chores around the house. 

So I took a negative thing and changed it into a positive thing. I hate people who blame others for all their problems. You are an adult, you are responsible for your actions.

One of those life lessons that you don't forget from childhood, came to me after being punished for hurting a kid that came after me. He rode to my house with his friends, to show off and mess with me, in my yard.

I knew if I let him get off his bike that he would likely hurt me, so I didn't let him get off his bike I knocked him off his bike and beat him with a coke bottle while he was on the ground wrapped up in his bike.

Well when my Mother found out about what happened and that the kid had been hurt pretty bad, she punished me. I did not understand why? I told her it was no my fault, that it was his fault. She asked me, "What other options could you have chosen?" Well I knew I was in big trouble because when my Mother's voice go all soft and low, and she started with the questions, you knew you had better tread lightly.
 I told her that I could have stayed in the house. I could have walked away. I could have called for help. I could have not hit him so many times.

To make a long story short, I she taught me that I am not responsible for the actions of other people, but I am responsible for my own.

[SomeJackleg]

I found this interesting. At least something to think about.

My pet peeve is people blaming everything and anything on others, without ever stopping to think about how their personal thoughts, beliefs, and actions may have contributed to the problem.

So this resonated with me a little bit.

there is a old saying, momma and daddy didn't raise no fools, they might have watched one grow up but didn't raise them.

my pop changed it to, we didn't raise you to be hard headed, a hard head makes for a soft ass.

[NightskyeB4Dawn]

there is a old saying, momma and daddy didn't raise no fools, they might have watched one grow up but didn't raise them.

my pop changed it to, we didn't raise you to be hard headed, a hard head makes for a soft ass.

The was commonly heard coming out of the mouth of parents when I was growing up. My Father did not believe in spanking because he said it was over too fast and you didn't have enough time to really reflect on the error of your ways.

He came up with really creative punishments that gave you plenty of time to think.

We always had about 2 years worth of chopped wood and our hardwood floors were spotless.

[Ninurta]

I blame my dad for giving me the grit to survive some of the shit I have. It's his fault that I'm still here at all, troubling this planet.

I blame my dad for teaching me how to grow stuff you can eat. I hated that shit growing up, but now it seems like it might be a handy thing to know. I hope to eventually recall at least half of what I was taught in that area.

I blame my dad for teaching me that it ain't unmanly to cry - provided that you are in the dark, locked behind a solid door, so that no one can see.

I blame my dad for teaching me that my actions have consequences - either bad, or good, it's all my choice.

I blame my dad for teaching me that not everyone is good... and not everyone is bad... and you don't know which they are until you watch 'em a while.

I blame my dad for teaching me to believe nothing that I hear and only half of what I see with my own eyes. It's his fault that I question everything, and dig to find the realities behind the facades.

I blame my dad for making me who I am, and for causing me to not give a damn who thinks that is good or bad.

.

[Ninurta]

The was commonly heard coming out of the mouth of parents when I was growing up. My Father did not believe in spanking because he said it was over too fast and you didn't have enough time to really reflect on the error of your ways.

He came up with really creative punishments that gave you plenty of time to think.

We always had about 2 years worth of chopped wood and our hardwood floors were spotless.

When I was about 14 years old, I ran away from home. I made it about 500 miles or so, and was trying to make it just a little farther into Canada when they dragged me down.

Dear Old Dad could have come right away and picked me up when they got me back to Virginia, but he didn't. He let me sit my young ass in jail for about a week to think things over. I was kind of glad of that, because I knew without a doubt that I was in a shitload of trouble whenever he did finally show up.

But when he did come and pick me up, he didn't yell, or smack me, or nothing. Just stone cold silence that scared the crap out of me worse than any yelling could ever do. "You ready to go home?" was all he said when he showed up, and nothing more. Just stone cold silence.

When we got home, he decided the punishment was going to be a little more time to think over the error of my ways, and that thinkin' time was going to be spent outdoors, clearing about 3 acres of cedar forest into pasture land. By myself. With just an ax. That did give me plenty of time to think... and plenty of time to grow some blisters on my hands, and then calluses. I'm not sure if he ever realized just how much that really did teach me, beyond the "error of my ways", but I'm guessing that he might have had an inkling.

Pap was just another dumbassed hillbilly, never made it past the 7th grade... but for all that, he was no one's fool.

I've never forgotten how to handle an ax, from felling to splitting.

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