From God’s Lips to Daddy’s Ear

imageDaddy was “the Boss.” God put him in charge, so we didn’t have to worry about what God wanted.  If we had any questions, we could go straight to Daddy.  He always had a Bible verse at the ready to back him up, if needed.  Most of them sounded suspiciously-freshly coined and self-serving, lacking book, chapter, and verse, but not having memorized the entire Bible, it was hard to prove they didn’t exist, like the one that forbade men to milk cows, “You cannot take what you cannot give.” Please. You didn’t have to be a heathen to see through that one.  Actually, Daddy anticipated our needs, requiring no effort on our part.  Permission to visit a friend, attend a school activity, or socialize had to come from Daddy.  Well, this is not strictly true.  Mother was free to say, “No” any time she chose.  The answer for visiting or socializing was easy.  “No. You don’t need to go.  Tell so and so they can come here.”   “No you can’t go to that party.  You don’t know who will be there.”  Or even more emphatically, “NO!  ………..will be there!”

School activities were usually okay in theory…… 1. If we weren’t grounded.  2. If one of the other kids in the family wasn’t grounded.   3. If nobody in the family had C or lower on their report card.  How often would a family with five kids not have at least one doofus with a C or lower on their report card?  This ruled out most opportunities to attend school activities, and “It was our own fault.  You shouldn’t have even have had to ask.”  Of course, the answer was “No.”

School dances were off limits.  We were Baptists, and at that time, in addition to preaching the Ten Commandments, Baptists preached against dancing, drinking, and wearing shorts.  Even asking to go to a dance was a sin.  The sermons didn’t hold the other Baptists back, Daddy always made sure we didn’t do those things expressly preached against.  I didn’t have too much trouble with the Ten Commandments, never having coveted my neighbor’s wife, committed adultery, and so far hadn’t killed anyone, but I wanted to go to dances.   There was no commandment forbidding dancing, but dancing would have incited lust.  If Daddy had bothered to check out the kids we went to school with, he wouldn’t have worried too much about lust. Most kids were hayseeds, skinny, pimply, and inbred.  In the early sixties, we had no access to mind-altering substances to make us look better to each other.

In the unlikely event everyone had perfect grades, the activity didn’t break a commandment, our plans could still wash out at the last minute if Daddy was in a bad mood, or one of the neighbor’s kids had behaved outrageously, causing Daddy to require us to be a perfect example.  In addition to the opportunity to provide a perfect example, we got to stay home and luxuriate in the added bonus of their lecture by proxy.

Life was a barrel of laughs at our house..

18 thoughts on “From God’s Lips to Daddy’s Ear

  1. The school dance would have been a miserable reality if you had gone – they’re never as good as they seem (or as good as they’re made out to be the following Monday). But the longing must have been unbearable.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Well done! You have written such a great memoir story. I have a long-ago written eulogy for my dad that needs to get out. But, my mother is the one who had God’s ear. Please look at the past story “YOUR MOTHER IS NOT GOD!” “SHE’S NOT?” How delightful that we have such memories of the good.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Growing up is not always easy. So many different ways to go. Mine left and acted like he didn’t have kids. I think it’s in the individual to go the right direction no matter the raising. You my dear went the right direction! Hugs from a far!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Rosa Ave Fénix says:

    My Dad was very stern with me and I was a quiet and studious…. but after marrying and divorcing… I had my time!!!!!!!


Talk To Me!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s