When youโre just a kid, you want to help. You want to be useful. You want to hang out with your old man. But invariably, youโre going to mess up. Youโre going to drop something, hang out where youโre not wanted, or just plain get in the way. As a grown-up, I can hear some of the same things my fatherย yelled, or that otherwiseย came out of hisย mouth. While usually true, I canโt help but think we should try to learn something from the past. Below, Iโve documented some of the things weโve likely all said and done that might have gotten us in trouble. Maybe we can all remember what it was like to get yelled at for silly things when we were young.
Here are the Top 5 Things My Father Yelled
1) Hold the Light Steady!
For some reason, it seems that it is physiologically impossible for anyone under the age of 14 to hold an incandescent flashlight steady. Still harder, holding that flashlight on the exact spot your dad wants. Since we didnโt have headlamps at the time (we werenโt coal miners after all), the job fell to me. Typically these adventures took place on a sub-zero winterโs day. My father thought winter was a great time to work on the well-used motor for our 1973 Jeep Wagoneer. We affectionately nicknamed it โThe Safari Beastโ.
Honestly, I had a difficult time holding a flashlight steady indoors. In cold weather, I demonstrated even less skill than usual.
2) Where is My X? (substitute any tool you might have borrowed)
Looking back, it seems my stepbrother and I had a way of borrowing my dadโs tools. Somehow, we often ended up leaving them in the woods or out in the yard behind the house. Sometimes he asked for them and we could fo โfindโ them for him right away. It was a different story when he found themโall rustyโwhile cutting the grass or doing something outside in the yard.
Um, those situations usually didnโt end so well. Of all the things my father yelled, discovering a misplaced tool frightened me the most!
Even with our run-ins, he never put a lock on the toolbox or the garage for that matter. We always had the tools to construct our forts, fix our projects, and build stuff.
3) Hand Me Thatโฆ
My primary job in helping my dad was to be his personal assistant.ย Largely, this resulted in being a human tool caddy and locating variousย instruments of self-torture and mayhem. Why am I describing the tools asย such? When you almost completely renovate a home with nothing more sophisticated than a corded drill and a circular saw (thatโs right, no cordless tools, table saw, miter saw, or reciprocating saw at our house), you become a bit jaded. And compressors and nailers? No way, by golly weย nailed every stud by handโthe old-fashioned way.
Being a tool caddyย under these conditions resulted in a lot of work. It also taught meย the trades in a way that was a lot more hands-on than I would haveย gotten otherwise. At least I keep telling myself that. Many of the things my father yelled ended up reinforcing my knowledge of tools.
Of course, this invariably leads to:
4) No, I Said the X, Not the Y!
I quickly learned the names of tools in our garage. Seeing how our dad was an electrical inspector by day and a shade tree mechanic on the weekends, we had a pretty well-stocked garage. He made well and sure I learned the names of tools. Oftentimes, as a kid, I worked as his โnurseโ when he fixed something on the house or car. For example, while he was under a car, he would yell out, โI need a 3/8-inch drive ratchet with a 6โณ extension and a 1/2-inch 6-point socketโ. I would scurry to find the right pieces and parts to give him what he needed.
5) Get Away from the Edge!
Since my dad worked as an electrical inspector at the famous Bethlehem Steel, he spent a lot of time high up on cranes fixing things. When you spend that much time up in the air, you get good at it. You also garner a proclivity for continuing to work up high, which is probably how my Dad ended up installing television antennas as a side job. Of course, he liked to take me with him on jobs. As weโd be walking around 3-story buildings, I can still remember several of the things he yelled at me while helping. Primarily, his warnings had to do with my staying away from the edges of the roof.
What made this memorable was that I never EVER got near the edge of the roof that I could remember. In fact, I have a pretty healthy fear of heights that was only (and remains to be) conquered by sheer mind over matter. No, sir, I donโt like it. Still, Iโll get up on a roof and get the job done if it calls for it. Just donโt ask me to enjoy myself.
How About You?
Of course, nowadays, my Father loves what I do. It doesnโt hurt that each year we come up with ideas for the Best Tool Gifts for Fatherโs Day. Thatโs bound to tone down the yelling in almost any circumstance!
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