Calvinized Parenting

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
41

This isn’t exactly a lesson, but I can imagine Calvin’s father doing it, too.

About a dozen years ago, my family went on a vacation to Yellowstone. We were staying in a cabin near the park. One day while we were cooking steaks, a bear came up on the cabin’s porch to see if he could get in on the dinner action. Naturally, this caused mass hysteria amongst my sisters and me (ages 13, 14 and 16), not to mention our mother.

After several minutes of shrieking and racing around to various windows looking for the bear (which had ambled away), we got brave enough to go outside to look for it. We were too chicken to look very hard and stayed right near the house. My father snuck outside and hid on the side of the cabin. Just as we were approaching his hiding spot, he let loose a furious burst of snorting and snuffling which scared the crap out of us. He thought it was the funniest joke ever, but after we recovered from our fright, we were enraged. Ah, the looks on our faces must have been hilarious.

42

My dad was a great prankster and I was quite the gullible child, but my mom was the protective one so dad never got away with as much as he wanted.

One particular instance was a beach trip we took to North Carolina many years ago with our family from New Jersey. One night we made a bonfire on the beach and told stories. My uncle from NJ told us an urban legend (although we didn’t know it was an urban legend then) of the Green Man, some kind of Toxic Avenger-type creature that lived near Boonton Falls where we’re from. He made special mention that sometimes the Green Man follows people from New Jersey when they go to far away places. “Nuh uh!” we insisted although somewhat disturbed by that. Later that evening as we made our way in the dark through some dunes back to the house, my dad and my uncle had snuck around us, hid in some tall seagrass and jumped out in front of us, yelling and making horrible monster noises. You can believe we all had to change our drawers that night.

Whenever I asked what some kind of food was that I had never seen before, my dad would say without fail “chicken lips”. “What’s in that stew?” “Chicken lips.”

My dad also had me believing for years that eating bread crust would make my hair curly. I guess he was tired of me pulling all the crusts of my sandwiches and also whining about my poker straight hair.

We had a little storage unit with a black metal door near the front of our house that I was never allowed to go in because it held all my dad’s automotive stuff – oil, chemicals, tools, coolant, etc. To keep me out of there, my dad insisted that “the boogens” lived there. To this day I’ll never know where he got “boogens” from, but it seemed more believable at the time than the Boogie Man.

Where my aforementioned uncle in New Jersey lives, there is a 3 foot stone wall that lines one edge of their property. The drop on the other side is about 5 feet since the property next door is lower. Everyone was terrified that one of the kids would climb the wall and fall over, so we were all told there was a bear trap on the other side. Although then and now it seemed implausible, weren’t taking any chances of getting caught in the bear trap.

My family was Catholic and never, ever talked about sex. When I asked where babies come from, my mom simply said “you wish really hard and you get a baby in your stomach”. Man, oh, man, it was all I could do to keep that off my mind so that I wouldn’t get a baby in my stomach.

43

Many years ago, during one of Evil Aunt’s visits, we decided to have a big family dinner at this nice, beachside restaurant. Dessert time rolled around, and I’d gotten curious about the “chocolate mousse”-- I’d never heard of such a thing. Within minutes, Evil Aunt had me convinced that if I ordered it, I’d regret it. The antlers were huge, she said, and dangerous. If they poked me, it’d probably result in some serious injuries. No doubt I’d have to go to the hospital for stitches.

It was quite a while before I figured out I’d been had. She’s evil for other reasons, though.

44

Six-year-old Son: “What are we having for lunch, Dad?”
Me: “Eel soup. With rhino sandwiches.”
SYOS: “Daaaaaaadddddd! Sheesh!” And he gives me that wide-eyed, half-smile, head-cocked-to-the-side, sheesh look.

I live for that look.

My goal in life is to always be able to answer that question with a different weird food. Keeps them on their toes, and might keep me mentally sharp into my advanced years.
Our favorite exchange is about Moose Tracks ice cream. (Never heard of it? I weep for you.)

SYOS: “Mmmm, Dad, what flavor ice cream is this?”
Me: “It’s called Moose Tracks.”
SYOS: “Daaaaaaddddd!” (That look again. Love that look!)
Me: “No, really. Look at the box. It’s called Moose Tracks.”
SYOS: “Wow, it is!”
Me: “What I can’t figure out is – How did the Moose get into the ice cream?”
SYOS: “There’s no moose in the ice cream!” (Giggles. Those are priceless, too.)
Me: “There isn’t anymore, but he was in there at some point. How else would his tracks have gotten there? Someone must have left the freezer door open.”
SYOS: “Daaaddddd!” :slight_smile:

He and I are still working out ways that the moose might have gotten into the ice cream.
Wish I could remember some more specific examples. My wife realized a long time ago that Calvin’s Dad was my personal hero and that I could raise my children no other way. Now it’s great to have one of my three boys walk up, ask a question (points to the tools in my hand --“Dad, what are those?”) and then watch my wife stop whatever she’s doing to catch the answer. (“These are pliers, son. The dragon in the basement has a loose tooth and I have to go pull it. If I’m not back by dinner-time start without me.”)

I love being a Dad.

Paul

45

I never will forget the day my Dad stopped at a gas station/tackle shop on the way home with all of us in the car. He came out with the usual assortment of sodas and munchies, and a mysterious brown paper bag. He told us that supper was in the bag. So, we get home and start wondering what’s for supper (Mom is wondering, too.) We ask, and my Dad says “Worms for supper tonight.” OK. We all go out to the field behind the house and start digging worms out of an old rotten tree whilst making sure not to accidentally getting any baby rattle snakes or copper heads (hey, we lived out in the sticks - it was about 12 miles into the next town and we needed a telescope to see if the neighbors were home.) Large quantities of worms safely stored in a big coffee can, we all traipse off to the woods (Dad still carrying his mysterious bag) to go and gather wood. Dad makes sure to tell us to get the long, skinny saplings “because they burn better.” Kids with long sticks and a can of worms together with parents now hike around the woods to the pond beyond. Dad now informs us that it is time to get supper, and unpacks his mysterious bag. He had picked up six sets of bobbers and fish hooks and a roll of fishing line from the tackle store, and we were going to catch fish for supper. OK, now we know why we needed the worms, but why did he tell we were going to eat worms? “The fish eat the worms and we eat the fish. Since the worms are in the fish, we will be eating worms for supper.”
Rather long winded, but it was really funny at the time.
Another thing that happened on this expedition was the beer drinking calf incident. Dad happened to take a can of beer with him (hey, we all took something to drink along - this was high summer in south Louisiana.) Once we all got our fishing poles made and baited, Dad set himself up on the highest spot on the bank of the pond (did I mention that the pond was about a half a mile across?) to fish and keep an eye on us while we fished. So there he is, sitting on the high spot with his back to the drop off down to the field below with his now open beer beside him, not paying any attention to the cows grazing down there. This calf ambles around to the end of the embankment and follows it up to where my Dad is sitting. Did I mention the calf came up on the same side as the beer? Dad wasn’t worried by the calf - no reason to worry as there’s plenty of room for the calf to go around and grass there if that’s what the calf is after. So, the calf starts sniffing as it comes up to my Dad. Up in the air at first, and the closer it got to my Dad, the closer to the ground it sniffed. Whump! Calf knocks over the beer, Dad jumps up shouting. Calf calmly laps up all the beer that didn’t soak into Dad’s pants, and then turns around and ambles off the same way it came. We kids had a grand view of the goings on, and laughed ourselves silly. Luckily, no one fell into the pond from laughing.

My own two kids aren’t really old enough for Cavinistics. Sometimes, though, my daughter (three years old) asks where we are going when she knows perfectly well where (the grocery store, grandpa’s house, etc.) because we have already told her and talked to her about it. On those occasions I usually answer with “To the moon.” She laughs and says “No, to the grocery store (or whatever.)” Sometimes she answers back “Where’s the airplane?” She hasn’t figured out rockets yet, but she knows the moon is real far off and that you go to far away places in an airplane. Of course, she also thinks you can buy an airplane at the grocery store, and that you have to put it up on the belt and let the lady scan it (beep it) before you can take it home and fly it.

46

It’s not Calvinized, but my Dad had a pretty weird sense of humor…

He had this really creepy mask (much freakier that what’s out now) and a long haired wig that was white that he’d don occasionally to scare the bejesus out of us.

He usually did this in the fall when it got dark early. While we were drying the dishes, this grotesque face would suddenly pop up in the window and scare us half to death!

I’m amazed we never broke any dishes!

Once, when I was really little, he came in to the house dressed up that way and I was convinved that it was a monster! I hid behind the garbage can (there were 7 of us and we had a huge plastic garbage can in the kitchen for everyday waste) and wouldn’t come out.

My sisters were trying to tell me it was Dad, but I wouldn’t listen. He even took the mask off, but it took me a long time before I would believe it was really Dad.

Geez. Still freaks me out when I think of that face with white hair popping up in the window!

My siblings were more apt to pull the Calvin stuff on me. I’m the youngest of the 7 and I was extremely gullible.

My next oldest sister told me that if you looked in people’s ears when they’re sleeping, you can see their dreams. She awoke one morning to see me staring in her ear.

And people wonder why I don’t believe them immediately about stuff… :smiley:

47

Until I was probably 5-6 years old, I believed that my dad (in his younger years) was an astronaut. On one of his flights, he found a fingernail on Mars. He took the fingernail home, and planted it, watered it, and loved it very much. That fingernail turned into Mom, and that’s how they met and got married. Now if only I could find the right fingernail for myself…

48

This isn’t really parenting, per se, but whenever a guy asks why women always go to the bathroom in groups, I say with a totally straight face, “So we can fight off the ninjas.” Any women in earshot immediately nod in solemn agreement. “Plus, it takes two people to fire up the hot tub, and we take turns getting up to change the channel on the big screen, because the batteries in the remote are always dead. And you wondered why we spend so much time in there!”

49

It’s not a lie, but when my cousin was visiting, he hid in the closet and my dad had me search for him. When I got around to opening the right door, he roared and took a Polaroid of me. It was a pretty good picture, but I think he took it before the startled look really took hold.

50

Well, Dad used to insist that I came from the Boy Factory in Red Bluff (CA).

Actually, he still does.

51

I just heard this on our family vacation from my brother-in-law, and I thought it was a hoot.

When he was about seven, he and his dad were getting in the car, and BIL decided he would play a joke on Dad, and said “Dad, there’s a monster in the back seat!” Ha ha says Dad.

They pull out of the driveway, and at the first stop sign, Dad glances back into the back seat, shouts “oh my god, there really is a monster!” and (the best touch) opens his door and jumps out of the car. BIL said he sat frozen in the front seat, with his mouth hanging open in a silent scream of horror.

Now that is good parenting.

52

I’m not sure what I said or how I did it but when I was about 4 and my sister about 2 I convinced her that it would be quite beneficial to her to allow me to spray paint her silver. I was about halfway through before my parents caught us.

I convinced a few younger people when I was about 13 that you can jump really high on top of mountains because you’re so far from the earth. And that it was also very hot since you were so close to the sun.

My dad was always a good one for jokes and bald face lies, and he had impeccable timing for making you jump in fright. I have a really bad memory though so can’t remember many of them. But what always shocked the hell out of me was we’d be sitting innocently, maybe driving, waiting at some place and all of a sudden he’d slap my thigh and grab on and yell “That’s how a horse bites!” Or we’d be mad and whine “Leave me alone!” and he’d always shoot back “Well how much do you need? $50? $100?” which would always make us madder. Now I know he got that from Firesign T. Or we’d whine “I’m hungry!” or thirsty or hot or whatever and he’d shoot right back “Hi Hungry, I’m Bobby!” which wuld frustrate us no end.

Actually I think during my “Why?” phase was when my parents started college and they became a LOT less fun, and since we had 3 acres of jungle to play with we basically disappeared when we got up and reappeared only for lunch and dinner before going to bed. My mother turning into the “Go outside and play.” type which WAS what Calvin’s parents were like when they lost their patience.

Although I am desperate to have kids just so I can answer them when they ask why old movies are in black & white. That has to be one of the best lies ever!

53

Whenever I asked where I came from, my dad used to tell me that the milkman left me. See, I was the only one in my immediate family with red hair (which I actually inherited from my grandfather, but his was white by the time I was old enough to be asking where I came from).

And now that I’m married with kids of my own…I’m still the only redhead in my house. And my kids don’t look like me, either.

54

Persephone, I am not trying to break up your marriage or anything, but. Are you sure you are the mother?!?!

Oh, that monster in the back seat one is great. I can’t wait to do that to my kids, if I ever have them. Or, else, since I don’t see any kids in my future, I might just start doing it to random kids.

pat

55

*pricciar, the first thing one of my aunts said to me was “damn, Cris, you sure she’s yours?” Both my kids look like they just sprung fully formed from my husband’s forehead, like Athena from Zeus. And they both look so much like their older brother (my husband’s son from a previous relationship) that you can’t tell they’ve got different mothers.

So, when they start acting bad and I refer to them as “YOUR children” to my husband, and he gives me some weak-ass excuse about how they’re half mine, I dare him to prove it. Because the only way he could is by DNA testing them, and he doesn’t have that kind of cash. :smiley:
[sub]of course, he likes to say they’ve got MY attitude, and my own mother backs him up on that one, but I think they’re both liars…[/sub]

56

Pers, you need to check your Hotmail more often.

FalconFinder, I lived in fear of this actually happening (we lived out in the country and I had/have a very active imagination) so if I had your father, I probably would’ve peed my pants numerous times.