To Dirty Devil: Your Mom must have been a fan of * Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In, * a rather unusual comedy show in the late 1960s. A “bippy” could mean some rather private part of the anatomy, or it could mean a daisy-like figure with rounded petals, about 5 or 6 or 7 of them.
Other phrases from Laugh-In:
“Sock It To Me!” (even Richard Nixon appeared on the show and said it. He was president then!)
“Look that up in your Funk & Wagnalls!”
“Walnettos!”
“Well, Ring My Chimes!”
“Verry Interrestink!” (spoken by Arte Johnson, peeking out from behind a bush and dressed as a German field lieutenant.)
One word: “Why?” No matter what I did (or didn’t do), my mother would demand an explanation, and would never be satisfied by the ones that I gave. It’s like having a three-year-old. For two decades. Yeesh.
Anothe annoying saying: “You’re lucky I love you”. In other words, there’s no way anyone would put up with you unless they really love you.
-Ryan
" ‘Ideas on Earth were badges of friendship or enmity. Their content did not matter.’ " -Kurt Vonnegut, * Breakfast of Champions *
My mom’s favorite line when she was mad at me…“I hope you have one JUST like you” After six years of marriage, I still have no kids.
“I’ll kill one of you as an example to the rest!”
She had six kids and I guess she figured she could spare one…
The reason gentlemen prefer blondes is that there are not enough redheads to go around.
[list][li]“I am just sick and tired…”[/li][li]“Clean up this room.”[/li][li]anything preceded by my full name[/li]“Who drank all the gin?” urp
It wasn’t maddening to me, but I have known a few polylingual mothers–mostly yard customers of mine–who would speak in Thai or Armenian or Spanish, etc., when they meant business. (Actually, if I had kids, I would want a wife who would speak the same foreign language(s) I do, and for the same reason my customers did. But I sure know that these mothers’ kids must have reeled when their mothers spoke to them in a language other than English.)
I can’t believe nobody has mentioned this one yet:
“You’re going to poke your eye out with that thing!” (Has this EVER actually happened?)
“That glass is too close to the edge of the table.” (When it’s six inches away.)
“You don’t REALLY hate [school / raisins / your brother / whatever]. You’re just saying that to get a rise out of me.”
“I’m cold. Put on your jacket.”
When I was little, I remember my mom telling me to put down the wooden dowel I was playing with, or I’d poke my eye out. Mere moments later, I managed to scratch my cornea with it. Didn’t cause any permanent damage, but I did have to wear an eyepatch for a while. An older cousin tells me that I looked like the world’s only five-year-old pirate.
I’m not a warlock. I’m a witch with a Y chromosome.
Sometimes it isn’t so much what is said as the little verbal traps that your parents set for you.
For example:
Parent: “Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”
You (innocently) “No, why?”
Parent (voice getting angry): “Because I want to know when the hell you are going to clean up the garage like I told you to do two weeks ago?!!”
See what I mean? 
My favorite was: “I’ll have you stuffed!” (Referring to taxidermy.)
Or this kind of exchange:
Me: I’m bored.
Mom: Well, you can clean the screens, hang out the laundry, clean up your room, sweep the porch, rake the leaves…(ad infinitum)
I agree, Eden. I have suffered this too. And it’s usually said in the most irritating, repetitive singsong voice…Aughhhhhhhh!!!
“If you drive an automobile, please drive carefully–because I walk in my sleep.”–Victor Borge
I agree, Eden. I have suffered this too. And it’s usually said in the most irritating, repetitive singsong voice…Aughhhhhhhh!!!
“If you drive an automobile, please drive carefully–because I walk in my sleep.”–Victor Borge
giggle
Speaking of repetitive…sorry to make light of your itchy trigger finger ;-
But yes, absolutely. The worst part was that once mom figured out I was underemployed, she’d make sure I did at least two of the chores she suggested.
I have a co-worker who at an early age had to do all the family’s laundry. He and his brother would have to carry the family’s clothes to the laundry room (they lived in an apartment) and sit and wait, then fold and carry it all back…in Florida, this is pretty hot work. So they asked their dad for extra change for Cokes. He refused, and they henceforth crammed the four loads’ worth into one or two, and used the remaining chance for two Cokes each!
Touché!
“If you drive an automobile, please drive carefully–because I walk in my sleep.”–Victor Borge
I also will testify that in our house saying “I’m bored” got you put to work, and pronto. I’ll do the exact same thing to my kids, if I ever have any. 
My mom used to say “Life isn’t fair.” That bugged the heck out of me. I felt (and feel) that life should damn well be as fair as we can make it, and I found “life isn’t fair” to be cold comfort in the face of some enormous childhood injustice.
Sometimes it’s worse than maddening. It’s bad enough when your father strikes you with his hand or a belt or a switch–the pain from that doesn’t last long. But when your mother bawls you out and then she starts to cry–that hurts worse than a belt! [tearing up]
My mom was the master of the ultra switch…still is. You would be arguing say about her nagging. I would counter with a valid point and then she would pull the ultra switch…and I quote. “FINE I will just not speak at all then!!!” Which is not exactly what you want her to say since she would continue on.
She also would do what my brother and I called the radar nag. She would end the arguement, everyone would be happy and I would be leaving. Just as yo got out of earshot, she would drop a nag in to get the last word. Now you cannot go back and accuse her of a nag because she will either get innocent or get mad again. I would shake because she could do it perfectly each time!!!
With m dad, it was if the full name was used…run like hell. I remember my dad chasing both my brother and I because he demanded that we come and get a spanking. My brother, in his infinite wisdom told him that he had to catch us first. We ran for 6 blocks with my dad waving a switch and cursing like a sailor. Oh yea, he caught us but was too tired to really let us have it.
He got mom to do it…Ouch
Oh, how about this one?
In the northwoods cabin, I put my fishing pole down on a bed. “Don’t put that there,” my mom shrieks, “Someone will sit on it and poke their eye out!”
Still trying to envision how that would work.
Did she cry, Heath? I’ll bet that hurt worse
Thanks for giving me some new ammunition to torture my kid with!