As were mine; they were old enough to be grandparents when I came along. Dad was mistaken for my grandfather a few times.
Sodas were only for special occasions, like birthdays and New Year’s Eve. Unless we bought our own, which typically never got in the house; we’d drink them outside.
Dad felt long hair belonged on women, not men. Eldest bro eventually moved out rather than cut his shoulder-length locks.
I came here to post “short hair on guys”.
I was born in the mid '50’s. They were scared to death that America was going to be taken over by commies, and the way that would happen is by the hippies getting all of this great nation’s youth hooked on rock and roll and casual sex (they didn’t know about weed yet). The ONLY way to resist the Red Horde was to keep your son’s hair trimmed.
Once, my dad even grabbed one of my friends who had a “one o’ them Beatle haircuts”, marched him down to our basement and buzzed all his hair reeeally short with the dog clippers.
(My dad had been asked to by the friend’s dad, which only added a Catch-22 absurdity to the horror)
Born in 1987. Mom hated loud noises. She had no issue with us making messes or literally climbing the walls, but there better not be yelling or screaming while we were doing it. Screaming was only allowed if we were hurt and needed an adult immediately.
Dad hated anything getting spilled or broken due to carelessness. He was generally mild-tempered but knocking over your drink at the dinner table was time to duck and cover.
Or as my dad would say, “Hate? Hate the Nazis.”
Also, “Don’t say ‘Trust me’. You sound like Richard Nixon.”
Born 1974.
Born 1968.
My dad had an enormous peeve against lying. My mother’s default reaction to any reports of trouble from her children was “stop lying”. The combination made the realization that she’s a compulsive liar all the more painful :smack:
Born 1960. Where do I start?
– No elbows on the table.
– Even if your father’s business associate invites you to call him, “John,” you will refer to him as “Mr. Smith,” and “Sir” subsequently.
– You will never use the psuedo-word, “gonna.” You will use the proper form, “going to.”
– You never drop your "g"s. At the restaurant, “I’m havin’’” earned a sharp rebuke; while “I’m having” earned a parental look of approval.
I could go on, but I won’t.
Born in 1974.
Also, my dad had an irrational hatred of soccer. Still has. As a result, watching matches or playing in the garden was… difficult (“Got nothing better to do ?”)
I was born in 1955
My Dad always corrected us for using, “You Know” in our speech. “No, I don’t know” he would say.
panache45 What happened to your mother?
Turning off lights you don’t need (this one ultimately killed my mom).
Mine did the same sort of thing with “of course”.
I can sort of understand the latter peeve as supper is more specific than dinner, but that’s because dinner is the main meal of the day no matter when it is served. So insisting that the midday meal is always dinner seems bizarre to me.
Several of my teachers in high school in the late 80s grew up in that era and used me as an example in their impromptu discussions on how short hair was in the 50s. I had a whatever-style haircut, not Beatle-length but not buzzed either, and they’d look around the room and settle on me: “hair was so short that even Ludovic’s hair would have been too long!”
Now, I’ve settled on a close clip myself due to lack of hair and cheapness. I also find it cuts down on headaches for some reason, the heat and the weight.
Boston, 1950’s & 1960’s.
My mother had two:
All five of us had to have everything we needed for the next day put together the night before. I still do this with clothes. It’s just easier to do it at night and not have to go hunting in the morning.
Her big deal was you NEVER put any food residue in the indoor kitchen waste basket. She didn’t care if it was 40 below with a blizzard raging outside, garbage went in the outside can kept on the back porch. Trash was indoor stuff; food was garbage and put outside.
I was a grown up living on my own before I found out most people don’t go batshit if a paper coffee cup is thrown away indoors.
Born in 1961
My dad had most of the pet peeves or rules. My mom was always easy going (still is).
Dad’s:
Turn off lights when leaving a room.
Shut the door - don’t let the heat out.
Us kids crossing a busy street just about gave him a stroke.
I was “too young” for just about everything! Shaving my legs, wearing makeup, taking a bus downtown with friends, dating (of course). My poor mom had to convince him.
Always lock the doors when you’re home. (and of course, lock them when you leave)
Bedtime for us kids was 9:30.
He thought All in the Family was very inappropriate for kids. We’d usually beg to watch it and he’d give in.
As a teenager, I had a 10:30 curfew on weekdays and 12:00 on weekends.
I could go out (dates or with friends) 2 days per week. If I wanted to go out on both Fri & Sat, I couldn’t go out on a weekday.
Boys had to come to the door.
He hated it when we would beg to bring friends to the cabin. He saw it as a family-only thing. We were only allowed a couple of times. It became too much work to beg him after awhile. Come to think of it, when a friend did come, it never was as much fun as I imagined it was going to be.
All of those things make me smile now. I wish he was still here.
My mother seemed get peeved by anything and everything but here some highlights:
Every window in the house had to be open. She could not tolerate the heat and it was never “warm” or “hot” out; it was STIFLING!!!
Cold drinks must be ICE COLD! and hot foods must be PIPING HOT!!!
Poor grammar could send her into a frenzy and regionalisms / alternative pronunciations were mocked (I do that too). If you pronounced “picture” as “pitcher” she automatically branded you an idiot (in her mind; she wasn’t *that *tactless).
The water valves on the washing machine had to be turned off when not in use. I don’t know if that’s a common thing or not, but it was drilled into my head from a very early age. A boyfriend asked me several years ago why I always shut the water off and it’s so automatic that I can’t not do it.
Born in 1959, one of two siblings. The two of us squabbling.
Staying up late (nasty bedtime wars ensued). Staying out late (when older).
We never had to EAT food we didn’t like but we sure as hell didn’t get to decide we didn’t like food that we hadn’t tried.
Grew up in the 60’s & 70’s.
Lights were switched off after leaving a room. I still follow that practice. TV turned off if no one is watching it.
Take out food boxes were emptied into the garbage disposal and rinsed out before putting in the garbage. Anyone concerned about attracting bugs should be concerned about food waste in the kitchen garbage can.
We often left the garage door open if we were home during the day. Dad was often out there puttering on his workbench or doing yardwork. We always closed it at night or if we left the house on an errand. It was a hassle to open manually.
Mine today has a electric opener with remote. I typically close the garage door more often. I still leave it open if I’m doing yard work or washing the car. I’m not too concerned about leaving it open if we’re home. The door into the house has a keypad and is always locked.
Born in 1957. Dad was the easy going one. I think his only pet peeve was people not being kind to one another. My mom’s pet peeves, well, I could write a book. But the 3 things she drilled into me, and things that still bug me were: no running in the house; don’t touch the walls; don’t slam the doors.
My dad’s pet peeve #1 was a hatred for what he perceived as “fanciness”. He had an antipathy for luxury or wastefulness, and tried to drill into us a love for being spartan. If he had had his way, our house would have looked like a barracks and we would have subsisted on stale white bread and canned beans. It wasn’t that we were poor, really, he just hated indulgence.
It didn’t work. I liked and still like good restaurants, fine cars, and nice clothes.
My mom’s pet peeve “kids acting too grown-up”, and she liked to take us down a notch by pointing out that we weren’t half so great as we thought we were.