Strangest things your Parents have ever done?

In My Humble Opinion
21

My parent’s just are strange, they don’t even have to try or do anything. My dad is a physics and computing professor (retired) from a highly-religious and conservative redneck farming background, who is a complete hippy and vocal athesist. Mum is a welsh witch who has been a coven mother for 30 years, an ex-OCD sufferer who decided the best cure would be to become a nurse in order to bring her into closer contact with germs/bacteria so that she’d have to learn to cope.

They once decided to drive their dayglo-green hippymobile around a roundabout for an hour, just to make their four kids shriek in utter embarrassment. My little sister and I used to get dressed in matching outfits, again just to piss us off (it worked). Any friends invited home from school were ‘treated’ to the family two-hour slideshow, complete with jaunty piano accompaniment by Mum and running commentary by Dad (“And here we see Tom, if you look real close, he’s shit his diaper and it’s running down his leg. Oh, and here he is, butt-nekkid running after the cat. He probably wanted to rub his peepee on it, he used to do that a lot . . .” We didn’t invite people home often). Pretty much everything they did was planned to gain maximum blush-factor from their children, which they called “Getting their own back”, as according to them the enitre reason for having kids is to make up for all horrendous things done to you by your own parents. If I was ever in any kind of school performance, they would sit in the back and neck noisily. They’d also do this on family outings to the cinema. After almost 40 years of marriage they still do it, and also play footsie in restaurants. This is all very cute, but unsettling when it’s your mother’s foot knocking yours out of the way beneath the table in order to get to your dad’s thigh.

However, the worse strange thing Mum ever did, after watching Queer As Folk, was decide she would like a grandchild from all of her children. It might have been an idea to discuss with me before she actually started asking around if anyone knew any lesbian couples after some healthy gay spoo. I knew nothing of this until a friend of mine called to say "I’ve just had the weirdest phonecall from your mother . . . "

22

I do that (and so do my parents), and I don’t see anything weird about it.

See, when I want to watch TV, i get the remote, then get comfy on the couch. When I’m done watching, I return the remote to the top of the TV, where (a) I know where it’ll be for next time, and (b) I don’t have to worry about the toddler getting the remote and watching TV/hiding the remote/hammering his toys with it.

23

My father was an incredibly strange man. First, he was cheap in an overly extravagant way. Once he found this two-in-one shampoo/conditioner stuff at a dollar store. This stuff was chemical green Passaic River-water and capable of stripping several layers of skin from your scalp, but he loved it anyway. When the dollar store that sold it went out of business, he called up the company that made the stuff and starting ordering it. In bulk. So 150 units of shampoo would show up at our house periodically. He also gave bottles to co-workers as gifts. Here are some other quirks of his:

taking paperplates out of the trash to re-use them
he would sniff everyting before eating, to test if it was “still good”, then wander around the house asking everyone else for a second opinion- not so weird on its face, but he did this before eating ANYTHING, even fresh, packaged goods
He was in Viet Nam from 67-68 (drafted) and it made him fear and loathe having bare feet. He had to systematically wash his feet every night, and before putting on a pair of shoes
he lived in mortal fear of canteloupe- he felt there was just something wrong with them, and he refused to have them in the house
he hung pictures in strange places- low down on walls, behind lamps, directly across from toilets at eye-level…
he had a twitch- he would quickly turn his head to the left while talking- not often, but enough to be disturbing
he fell through the unfloored attic once when going up to check if snow had gotten in
he often wore socks with sandals- possibly a correlative of the bare feet thing
he often broke into song at somewhat inappropriate moments, mostly the State Farm Insurance theme song

And, most memorably, as it was the last time I saw him before he died, I was standing in his kitchen watching him make a sandwhich, and when he discovered the lettuce had wilted, he said, in the most confused, shocked, and hurt voice “The lettuce is wilted! How could this happen!?” It was his cry to heaven, I suppose.

He also regularly fell off his moving rider-mower, which was always good for a laugh.

24

Oh MAN does that sound familiar. I finally stopped that sort of thing by adding to the commentary with “Yes- can you belive I was the first child in recorded history to poop my pants? Can you believe that? Amazing fact, but true!”
The strangest thing my Dad ever did is ask me (at age 12 or so) if I would live with him if he and my mother divorced. I said yes, and it was never ever mentioned again. They are still unhappily married. Bizzaro.

Zette

25

Ah yes… You, my friend, have obviously never been to Finland, where the sight of a (usually middle-aged or elderly) couple glumly plodding along side by side in matching sweat suits (usually neon-colored, at least to some degree) is regrettably common… :slight_smile:

26

Not my parent, but my ex-girlfriend’s.

Ex lived on a farm in Ireland. On the farm was a donkey, called Nelly, who was their family pet. As kids they used to ride Nelly, and they gave her free rein around the place - sometimes she’d disappear for days on end and turn up pregnant, having gone out to look for donkey love. Nelly had been in the family for nearly 20 years, and they all loved her.

In 1995, Ex and I moved into a new apartment. A few weeks later we went down to the farm, and were presented with this enormous, hideous brown seventies-style carpet, far too big to go in our entire apartment, let alone one room. We feigned gratitude, but explained that our car wasn’t big enough for the carpet, and lied that maybe we’d pick it up one day if we could rent a van.

Later that day, Ex came into the house, saying, “where’s Nelly? Has she gone wandering again?” Ex’s dad looks shamefaced.

“Um… I met some tinkers, and didn’t have enough money to buy the carpet. I happened to mention we had a donkey…”

He had swapped beloved Nelly for a shitty carpet that nobody wanted. :frowning:

27

My parents occasionally had sex after their divorce. That, in and of itself, is not that strange. But one day I walked in on them. :eek:

The therapy bills are killing me.

28

My Dad became a monk, habit and everything.

And he’s still happily married to my mom.

29

Wow, ratty, your dad rivals mine!

Strange things my father did/does (haven’t seen him in 10-plus years):

–stops cars on extremely busy streets (think three lanes each way) if he sees an aluminum can by the road so he can recycle it
–had a panic attack in a CANOE on vacation because he’s afraid of being out on the water
–switched from grape jelly to strawberry when he found out it was 3 cents cheaper (mind you, we were a middle class family)
–puts ketchup on/in anything containing meat (including soup)

And of course, the show-stopper:
Got engaged to a mail order bride from Russia (Olga #1). Hired a private detective to track her when she came to the US because he suspected her of cheating on him. Dumps her when cheating is quasi-confirmed. Marries another mail-order bride with the SAME NAME (Olga #2) who he apparently had waiting in the wings. Sheesh.

My mom’s done some wacky stuff, but comes nowhere near my dad in this realm. Although once I came out to her (I’m female), I was definitely embarrassed by the fact that she kept trying to set me up (“Oh, I met the cutest girl in my swim class the other day! Do you want me to get her number for you?” Uh, no thanks.)

30

Well, yeah, my parents are strange.

My late father was a weirdo, in a charming way. He had a bit of a quixotic temper. It never was scary to us, just frustrating.

I remember him throwing a paper bag full of pears up on the roof, because he though they were his sack lunch, and he grapped the pears instead of lunch. So, to express his anger, he threw the pairs on the roof. He did this with other items that peeved him. (Like keys.)

He was a BIG music collector. He had thousands of records - all Classical (which explains my Classical music habit). That’s not strange, the strange part was, when he got a vinyl record (this is before CDs, he refused to get CDs) that was scratched, he wouldn’t return it to the store like a NORMAL person, he’d break it. Shatter it, in a fit of pique. And then immediately regret it and piss and moan about how he shouldn’t have done that. But he’d do it again, and again, and again. Sometimes, he’d try to hide is misdeeds, but we’d find little shards of black vinyl in the carpet, and would know that he’d gotten another scratched record! I don’t think any flawed record ever made it back to the store for exchange. They all got destroyed by him first.

He was obsessed with hand-held light meters. He was big on photography (always Kodachrome 64 slides, showing his excellent judgment) but he didn’t like the “automatic” light meters in cameras. So he insisted on hand-held. That wasn’t so weird, but he usually had several light meters at a time, and if one was not working right - you guessed it - he’d destroy it in a fit of pique. Also, one time on a family trip to Sequoia I thought I’d end up an orphan. We were on a simple ranger-guided hike, and my dad drops his light meter (or was it his lens cap?) down the side of the steep trail. And he INSISTED on stumbling down the side of the trail, (in his street shoes) to retrieve the damned thing. My dad was a clutz, I was convinced he’d fall to his death. But, well, you know, he’s gotta have his DAMNED LIGHT METER!!!

Oh, there are so many more stories about my dad.

My mom, she’s a nut. She eats bizarre things. Her high point was the (I kid you not, I witnessed her eat this) Peanut butter, Blue Cheese Dressing and Red Cabbage sandwich. I KID YOU NOT. She ate that. I also remember her eating about half a jar of jam (just plopped the big gob of jam into a bowl) and then sprinkled raw sunflower seeds on top of it. Yum! Dessert! :eek:

My mom is even more weird than my dad was, and she never fails to amaze. I could write a whole book about her eccentricities. I guess they complimented each other. They were both weird, in different ways.

My mom was usually able to snap my dad out of a fit of pique by having one herself (deliberately, just to shock him). One time, he was getting worked up about something, and she started tearing his shirt. She started ripping the sleeves off, as he looked on, startled, and then he tried to rip at her clothes. It was the most bizarre thing to see - two middle-aged people, slowly trying to destroy each other’s clothes (and not in an erotic way). They both ended up laughing, and my dad got out of his fit of pique.

31

Well, yeah, my parents are strange.

My late father was a weirdo, in a charming way. He had a bit of a quixotic temper. It never was scary to us, just frustrating.

I remember him throwing a paper bag full of pears up on the roof, because he though they were his sack lunch, and he grapped the pears instead of lunch. So, to express his anger, he threw the pairs on the roof. He did this with other items that peeved him. (Like keys.)

He was a BIG music collector. He had thousands of records - all Classical (which explains my Classical music habit). That’s not strange, the strange part was, when he got a vinyl record (this is before CDs, he refused to get CDs) that was scratched, he wouldn’t return it to the store like a NORMAL person, he’d break it. Shatter it, in a fit of pique. And then immediately regret it and piss and moan about how he shouldn’t have done that. But he’d do it again, and again, and again. Sometimes, he’d try to hide is misdeeds, but we’d find little shards of black vinyl in the carpet, and would know that he’d gotten another scratched record! I don’t think any flawed record ever made it back to the store for exchange. They all got destroyed by him first.

He was obsessed with hand-held light meters. He was big on photography (always Kodachrome 64 slides, showing his excellent judgment) but he didn’t like the “automatic” light meters in cameras. So he insisted on hand-held. That wasn’t so weird, but he usually had several light meters at a time, and if one was not working right - you guessed it - he’d destroy it in a fit of pique. Also, one time on a family trip to Sequoia I thought I’d end up an orphan. We were on a simple ranger-guided hike, and my dad drops his light meter (or was it his lens cap?) down the side of the steep trail. And he INSISTED on stumbling down the side of the trail, (in his street shoes) to retrieve the damned thing. My dad was a clutz, I was convinced he’d fall to his death. But, well, you know, he’s gotta have his DAMNED LIGHT METER!!!

Oh, there are so many more stories about my dad.

My mom, she’s a nut. She eats bizarre things. Her high point was the (I kid you not, I witnessed her eat this) Peanut butter, Blue Cheese Dressing and Red Cabbage sandwich. I KID YOU NOT. She ate that. I also remember her eating about half a jar of jam (just plopped the big gob of jam into a bowl) and then sprinkled raw sunflower seeds on top of it. Yum! Dessert! :eek:

My mom is even more weird than my dad was, and she never fails to amaze. I could write a whole book about her eccentricities. I guess they complimented each other. They were both weird, in different ways.

My mom was usually able to snap my dad out of a fit of pique by having one herself (deliberately, just to shock him). One time, he was getting worked up about something, and she started tearing his shirt. She started ripping the sleeves off, as he looked on, startled, and then he tried to rip at her clothes. It was the most bizarre thing to see - two middle-aged people, slowly trying to destroy each other’s clothes (and not in an erotic way). They both ended up laughing, and my dad got out of his fit of pique.

32

I DID NOT post that twice. How weird.

33

i think that one of the weirdest things my father ever did was bring home a dead coyote. dad was into taxidermy and had a few furs he had acquired tacked up in the garage. one night he was driving home from work and saw what looked like a body on the side of the road, so like any sane red-blooded american male, he investigated, wrapped the thing in a tarp, tossed it in his van and drove on home.

that would have been bad enough, but he chose to skin it several days later. on a hot, breezy day. imagine a 40 year old man stripped to the waist, waving a big knife around, covered in blood and flies and wearing a bandanna over his face. very serial-killer-chopping-up-his-victims. naturally i chose that moment to bring a few friends into the kitchen for a soda. one looks outside, turns extremely pale, and sputters “what is your dad… doing?” embarrassment city for a 15 year old.

we named the coyote “mr stinky”.

my father passed away a year ago, and this is always the story i wind up telling people when they ask what he was like. no wonder people think i’m odd.

34

Not mine, but a friend’s parents didn’t pay taxes for ten years. I don’t mean they cheated. I don’t mean they didn’t account for everything. I don’t even mean they didn’t send anything in.

What they did was write WE DON’T BELIEVE IN PAYING TAXES on their tax forms and sent that in.

They’re otherwise nice, normal people. They aren’t political extremists at all. They just didn’t want to pay taxes. They got hit with $100,000 in fines and had to go to minimum security prison for a year.

35

Not mine, but a friend’s parents didn’t pay taxes for ten years. I don’t mean they cheated. I don’t mean they didn’t account for everything. I don’t even mean they didn’t send anything in.

What they did was write WE DON’T BELIEVE IN PAYING TAXES on their tax forms and sent that in.

They’re otherwise nice, normal people. They aren’t political extremists at all. They just didn’t want to pay taxes. They got hit with $100,000 in fines and had to go to minimum security prison for a year.

36

Argh, I finally fell victim to the dreaded double post.

37

My mother would feed a seagull that came to our window-ledge with eggs from a spoon!

She also likes to talk/sing to inanimate objects (a habit I am beginning to acquire :|).

38

My mom also keeps her remote on top of the TV, but there are no toddlers around…she lives alone. Her house is also very cluttered, so in order to GET the remote, she has to climb around a sewing work table and a folding table and a chalkboard. I’ve often asked her why she doesn’t just leave it on the end table by the only chair she sits in, but she says she wants to know where it is when she needs it. I’ve explained that she will know it’s on the end table, and that the entire point of a remote is that you don’t have to walk all the way across the room at all, but apparently it’s important to keep all the parts together.

To give her credit, we still have all the pieces from every game we ever owned, and all the original owners manuals, registration cards and receipts from practically every appliance or gadget purchased. Plus a lot of the original packaging, in case it should ever have to be returned…cuz it says so in the owner’s manual. Plus almost every margarine tub ever purchased…they are reused after having their labels scrubbed off…for leftovers, freezing, sorting, blueberry-picking, hardware collection. Heaven forbid she should give me some berries or cookies in a big margarine or sherbet tub, and I don’t return it. And the plastic freezer bag that was in it too. She has entire boxes of washed plastic ziplocs and freezer bags. And when I was in school, and taking my lunch in a brown lunch bag, I had to fold it up and bring it home every day.

Even thought these penny-pinching ways drive me crazy, they have saved her a lot of money over the years, kept a lot of trash out of landfills (and she loves curbside recycling) and taught me to not be so hung-up on the latest consumer trends. But when she dies, the first thing that goes is the closet full of margarine tubs and washed plastic bags. I have enough of my own.

39

It’s not all that weird, really, but my mom posed naked. For pictures and for a painting. I’ve seen them both, but Mom keeps the photos hidden away and doesn’t have a copy of the painting.

One day, though, I’d like to get one of the photos and post them on an Internet site so my husband will stumble across them and be appalled. I need to figure out a way to make a fake internet site, so that I’m not actually flashing naked pictures of Mom across the world wide web.