Kids can sometimes be oblivious jerks

With Father’s Day tomorrow, I was reflecting upon some fond childhood memories with my dad when I realized…man, kids can be assholes sometimes, yet our parents still put up with us.

I can think of two specific instances from when I was little. Obviously I wasn’t trying to be a jerk at age 6, but the annoyance I inflicted on my parents is kind of amusing in retrospect. For example, I’ve always been an absolutely terrible sleeper. And back when I was young and couldn’t sleep, I still had the mindset that Parents Solve All Problem. So multiple times a week when I couldn’t fall asleep, I’d waltz into my parents’ room and tap on my dad’s shoulder, informing him of the problem and patiently waiting for the solution.

The solution: Him putting on All Dogs Go to Heaven and letting me fall asleep on the couch in front of the TV. Part of me wants to watch it as an adult to see if I’ve been classically conditioned to fall asleep during it. Mirrranndddaaa.

But as a little kid, I had no idea that 1. My parents didn’t actually have a solution to make me sleep 2. I was making them not able to sleep and 3. I could work a VCR on my own and cut out the middleman. Whoops.

I also have a very vivid memory of coming up with the best Halloween costume for my 6’6″ dad. You see, I took a paper bag and drew a Frankenstein mask on it…and made him wear it as he was taking me trick or treating all around the neighborhood…despite it having nothing to do with my costume. I remember at the time I thought it was the shizz, but in retrospect it had to look like crap since a 7-year-old made it.

Love: When you’ll walk around in public with a bag over your head for your daughter.

In retrospect I hope he had a couple manhattans to drink before dealing with that.

What did you obliviously make your parents put up with as a child?

This is post 22 of 49 of Blogathon. Donate to the Secular Student Alliance here.


  1. Screamer77 says

    My parents made me go to sleep pretty early. So, usually I could here my father watching tv on the other side of the wall in the living room. That sure meant he was ALWAYS there ALL night and never went to sleep, right?

    DAAAAAAAAD?! I’m thirsty!
    DAAAAAAAAD?! There are wolves under my bed!
    DAAAAAAAAD?! I can’t sleep, can you sleep here with me?
    (yes, most kids would sneak in their parents’ bed, I would force my father to share my tiny single bed with me…)

  2. ischemgeek says

    Erm, totally not my fault, but regular 3-AM trips to the ER for asthma attacks.

    Stuff that was my fault: Having no curiosity filter, and so asking often inappropriate questions. Like “What’s that yellow square thing in Mommy’s purse?” (Mom’s pad). Having no understanding that stuff that is okay to talk about at home is sometimes not okay to talk about at school (like the time I educated my kindergarden classmates on the birds and the bees after loudly denouncing another student’s mom who said that babies are delivered by storks. Or the time I told my sister’s classmates that I knew there was no Santa because I got curious and snuck downstairs one Christmas eve and saw my parents playing Santa. They were in pre-kindergarden.). Reciting the complete original Star Wars trilogy, by memory. Repeatedly. Reciting whole chapters from books I liked. Repeatedly. Bugging them to make up math problems for me when I was bored. Monologing to them at length about cloud type and structure and how storms form (weird that I never became a meteorologist… I blame it on the fact that Dad accidentally blew up the back yard bonfire once, and after that I was hooked on chemistry because explosions = totally super-cool to 11-year-old me XD)

    That’s not including all the headache I gave them with my asthma… but I don’t consider that obliviousness so I won’t include it. However, let’s just say that I had a knack for hilarious-in-retrospect timing of my severe attacks – hilarious in a funny-because-I’m-okay-now way, like when you slip and fall in a silly way that isn’t your fault and everyone laughs because you didn’t break anything and the laughter is as much from relief as from mirth.

  3. Diatryma says

    I would (repeatedly) prepare Sunday breakfast as a surprise for my parents and not let anyone enter the kitchen (where we usually had breakfast) until EVERYONE was ready…

  4. says

    Well, there was the time I nearly electrocuted myself because I didn’t *quite* understand how grounding worked…

  5. Ana says

    Gosh was I terrible.
    For starters, I had horrible nightmares and sleep paralysis including hallucinations (which I only figured out recently and I think were triggered by my sister’s sinusitis. It’s pretty hard to get a good night’s sleep when sharing a room with someone who snores like a fucking TRAIN), which meant screaming for my mother (because I was often unable to move, so I couldn’t even go silently to her room). She’d go get me and put me on her bed with her, where I’d proceed to sleep heavenly while kicking around all night. This went on for years before my sister got surgery.
    Then there was the dyslexia, which made me say the most awful things when I meant something else entirely. Like when I was 4 and went to a huge birthday party of some friend of my sister’s, with about 50 people my parents hardly knew. My parents dropped us off and then went to get us at night, and I wanted to tell them I had eaten so much I didn’t think I could go to sleep. Instead, I screamed at the top of my lungs “Mum, the party was great! I ate so much, for the first time I won’t go to bed hungry!”. Her mortified look is etched in my memory until this day.
    Also, unlike everyone else I know, me and my sis actually used to think my mother was the ugliest woman alive, which we told her quite often. We made fun of her nose (she got her revenge: we both inherited it), her hazel eyes, everything. And mind you, my mum is actually pretty attractive, I now have no idea why we always thought the opposite, but we honestly did.

  6. says

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