Was this ever asked of you by your parent(s)?

Jace

Jace

Well-known Member
"What sort of time..do you call this?

If you came in late...🙄

What excuse(s)..did you tell?
 

The regular excuses and there were no cell phones to trip us up!
I do remember a time we actually did get a flat tire. My boyfriend brought the tire up to the door to show my dad before he left. 😀
The regular excuses would have been, "there was no phone to call", " My ride wouldn't leave".
 
My Mother worked hard to support us. I never wanted to cause her worry and in return she set no curfew on me and trusted me. Plus everyone in the logging camp knew everybody so she could easily find where I was last spotted and what I was doing. :D
 
Jace said:
"What sort of time..do you call this?

If you came in late...🙄

What excuse(s)..did you tell?
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Nope, in fact this is the first time I recall the phrase.

My bedroom had an outside entrance at the time I thought I was coming and going unnoticed. My parents never said anything. In later years my mother set me straight, she said she thought it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.

I think she was right, and that has been my approach to it too. Most kids are not too bad, and the ones that are won't be easily corrected by nagging.
 
My father was a bully... when I was 4 and 5 ( even long before that)I was allowed out to play by myself or with my younger siblings.. but he would tell me to be back at a certain time for Tea.. but I wasn't old enough to tell the time. ..so I was told by him that I had to ask someone the time..a stranger... :oops:..if that wasn't bad enough.. at 4 or 5, time just got way from me, so by the time I found someone to ask.. it was often 10 or 20 mins after the time I should have been home, and I always got a beating..

When I was 16.. it was January.. freezing ice and snow... I went to a party at a friends house a few doors up. I was told to be home at midnight.. as you do when you're a teen regardles of the weather, we didn't wear a coat.. I just had the little sleeveless dress on. I didn't have a watch, couldn't afford to buy one.. and I noticed that it was almost midnight, so I raced home.. only to have the door locked in my face , and I was made to sit on the doorstep, all night until 8.30am.. when everyone was leaving for work and school.

I couldn't go to work that day or the next I was so ill!
 
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When possible I would get the older brother of one of my friends to call my house pretending to be the father instead of the brother, and telling my parents where I was and that everything was fine.
 

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If I was late coming home, my parents worried.
And when I finally got home, I didn't make up excuses, I just told them why I was late even if it got me into trouble.
The punishment for lying was worse than punishment for making out with my girlfriend past curfew, or whatever.

Lying was a crime in the 1st degree.

And making my parents worry needlessly, picturing me dead in a ditch somewhere, frantic that I'd been abducted, tied up and duct-taped, and subjected to things worse than death; that was no misdemeanor offense, my friends, believe that.
 
I made sure I was always on time. My mother had the fear of God imbedded in my at a young age.
 
No problem with my dad. It was my mom who waited up for all of us when we went out. God forbid if we were even 5 minutes late. She would be in a rage. With my insouciant attitude, it just made matters worse.
 
hollydolly said:
My father was a bully... when I was 4 and 5 ( even long before that)I was allowed out to play by myself or with my younger siblings.. but he would tell me to be back at a certain time for Tea.. but I wasn't old enough to tell the time. ..so I was told by him that I had to ask someone the time..a stranger... :oops:..if that wasn't bad enough.. at 4 or 5, time just got way from me, so by the time I found someone to ask.. it was often 10 or 20 mins after the time I should have been home, and I always got a beating..

When I was 16.. it was January.. freezing ice and snow... I went to a party at a friends house a few doors up. I was told to be home at midnight.. as you do when you're a teen regardles of the weather, we didn't wear a coat.. I just had the little sleeveless dress on. I didn't have a watch, couldn't afford to buy one.. and I noticed that it was almost midnight, so I raced home.. only to have the door locked in my face , and I was made to sit on the doorstep, all night until 8.30am.. when everyone was leaving for work and school.

I couldn't go to work that day or the next I was so ill!
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PeppermintPatty said:
If I ever came home late, there were no words ever used at that point. Words came after the beating.
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You poor kids! These posts make me glad parents today know they can go to jail for treating their kids like that.

My mother could give a pretty good beating, but my father confined himself to slaps -- those alone could send me across the room, but at least they stopped short of what could have been permanent damage.
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OP: I wasn't popular enough to be out late very often, but I do remember one time, when it was almost three, and my father asking what I'd been doing all that time. I had to have lied, I know I didn't tell my father the truth -- the boy and I had been necking that whole time.

I'm amazed, now, how long we could sit in cars and just kiss, back in the day when some of us girls remained virgins for a long time and had an imaginary no-go line just below the collar bones.
 
My father should have gone to jail for how he treated me. At 16, he hit me so hard , he broke my tailbone and 2 ribs . In doing so broke his hand in three places and had a cast up to his elbow. He got off on abusing me. It was a regular occurrence in our house. My mom psychologically abused me which was probably worse but I still took care of them when they no longer could care for themselves. Their golden boy, who they left everything to , did absolutely nothing to help.
Since getting them into a nursing home 4 years ago, I haven’t spoken to them since
 
My parents were amazingly relaxed on curfews. As long as they knew WHERE I was and WHO I was with, I had a flexible curfew. They didn't mind being waken up by a phone call from me asking if I could stay out longer as long as my reason was good. I DID have to call, though. I was a trustworthy rule-follower. It really didn't occur to me to break the rules.

My younger sisters, on the other hand, considered any questions about where they were, who they were with, what they were doing or when they were coming home to be UNREASONABLE. to the nth degree. I asked my mother, years and years later, why they let them get away with so much and she said "we were tired"......
 
PeppermintPatty said:
My father should have gone to jail for how he treated me. At 16, he hit me so hard , he broke my tailbone and 2 ribs . In doing so broke his hand in three places and had a cast up to his elbow. He got off on abusing me. It was a regular occurrence in our house.
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So a girl is at the hospital with a broken tail bone and two broken ribs and her father is down the hall with a broken hand and the doctors can't put two and two together and figure out who hit who.

SMH They all failed you, Patty. I'm so sorry.
 
Della said:
So a girl is at the hospital with a broken tail bone and two broken ribs and her father is down the hall with a broken hand and the doctors can't put two and two together and figure out who hit who.

SMH They all failed you, Patty. I'm so sorry.
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Oh heck no. They didn’t take me to the hospital. After a few days of needed rest, I moved out and took myself. A counsellor was brought in who strongly suggested I press charges but I never did. The police were called into the hospital though .

I later went back to gather some things and had nothing to do with them for years. There was a lot of dysfunction between my parents and myself and I didn’t want to face the repressions of ratting them out. I wish I could say I was braver back then but I literally was terrified of my father.

Being in high school sitting on a donut for a few months wasn’t fun either but having my own place at that age sure was.
 
To 'hear' some of the responses is💔.
May the memories soften..as life goes on.
 

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