And Here I Thought Only My Dad Was Psycho
I remember one date in particular back in High School. My first official date.
Well, I had to prep him because my dad is a character when it comes to boys and his daughter.
One of the requirements for my date was to come to the door, ring the bell, and greet my father as he was sure to answer it.
That scenario eventually came to pass. My date arrived and, upon my father answering the door, said, “Good evening Mr. Adlam. I’m here to pick up Teli.” Then held out his hand for a polite handshake.
My father looked down at his hand, then looked him in the eye (at this point, I was coming up behind my dad), and said, “If you hurt her, I will kill you.”
That was it. No hey there or hello, no handshake, no pat on the back. Just a very cold threat of bodily harm.
I quickly scooched past my dad and onto the porch with my date, smiled big, and said, “Don’t worry daddy, he’ll have me home at a decent hour.”
Looking back at that now, I’m kind of thankful my dad didn’t have military training. That scenario could have been a whole lot worse.