When The Sh*t Hits The Bookstore

I read Justin Halpern's book "Sh*t My Dad Says" this weekend, and it seems as if it was a tome that any of my kids could have written...or any of my previous students, for that matter. Of course, I was never as crude using the language as Halpern's dad appears to be, but I'm sure there are some memorable lines bubbling beneath the surface of their subconsciousnesses that would be worthwhile. And, of course, reading the text made me think of things my dad would say...sometimes when he was angry with me and sometimes when (I think) he was just putting me on. It is to my discredit that I never gave him enough credit for knowing what he knew as a graduate of Hard Knocks University and the 6th grade in public school in Teneha, Texas, during the Great Depression days.

"You crying? Stop that, or I'll give you something to cry about!" Well, to be perfectly honest, I already HAD something to cry about...it's just that it wasn't important to the way he viewed life or my place in it.

"You know, you were supposed to be Mary Catherine instead of Darrell Eugene, and your mother was so disappointed that she tried to give you away in the hospital." I always hoped that he was putting me on, and Mom always denied it rather vehemently, but there was still a little doubt as the second (and last child) in the family.

"See? Now you know why you'll always like the first one better." This after I called to relate the birth of our second child while, at the same time, relaying an amusing anecdote about the older sibling. Even as an adult, I found this to be a bit more than disconcerting.

***Kids, if you're reading this, it is absolutely NOT true in my case (unless it is only the eldest who reads this).

"You should give up sports and playing games. After all, life is hard work, and the sooner you get used to it, the better off you'll be." I was in 8th grade at the time Dad uttered this one. I think he was tired of my making up excuse after excuse not to want to go with him to the body shop and sand cars endlessly. On the other hand, my older brother LOVED doing that sort of thing. HMMMM.
Anyway, Halpern's dad loved him dearly, said so on occasion, and came through when the young man needed help.
My dad did, too, though he often gave me sh*t about it.

"What do you mean, you don't know how to hang the gutter on your house so the water drains out? Didn't they teach you anything in college"?
No, Dad, they didn't. That's why I was lucky enough to have you.
I am seriously considering making a run at a book entitled "Sh*t My Kids Did ." There are a million stories there!