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The Smasher’s Daughter
With the onslaught of the summer heat, the kids have been pestering me to take them to the local ice cream shack to buy them a treat. I have avoided the ice cream shack like the plague ever since I discovered it’s existence.
The kids, however, clamor to be taken there, as it is the local hot spot for kids their age to gather and gossip. Boo spent many a dollar wooing his teenaged girl friends on the weathered benches out front and can’t understand why I’m bucking so hard to avoid the place.
But for me, ice cream is meant to be eaten in the sanctity of one’s home, straight out of the carton and preferably with out embarrassing one’s self.
I had a mortifying experience when I was younger, involving ice cream and boys.
And it’s all my dad’s fault.
“Why, did he trip you or something?” Boo asked.
“No. Something much worse,” I sighed and then proceeded to tell him the story of the Smasher’s Daughter.
When I was sixteen, I hopped into my dad’s truck as he was going to the gas station to fuel up and buy a pack of smokes. It was a sticky summer evening and I was hoping to twist my daddy’s arm into buying me a cool treat.
I mean, how could he resist me if I batted my teal green eyelashes at him and whined non-stop about being hot, all the way to the gas station?
When we got to the gas station I was horrified to find a gaggle of boys I went to school with, loitering outside the front door of the store. Boys whom I thought were cute. Boys whom I was hoping to one day woo and entice with my wit and charm and shiny pink lipstick. Boys who took my breath away by simply existing.
I panicked. I was with my father, who was dirty and wearing ugly work boots, sitting in his ratty old truck and I hadn’t taken the time to groom myself for any chance meetings with boys. Could I get any uncooler?
Suddenly, I didn’t want a cool treat any more; in fact I no longer wanted anything more than the powers of invisibility or for my father discover he forgot his wallet at home and for him to immediately turn the vehicle around and save me from having to walk into the store along side my father.
Dad, however, after listening to me whine and needle him about an ice cream treat for the better part of ten minutes, was not going to let a few boys and my red cheeks interfere with my plans for mint chocolate chip goodness.
He ordered me into the store and with my head hung down to my knees I stared at my toes and ignored the snickerings of the cute boys around me. I felt like I had died and landed straight into teen aged hell. My father of course, was enjoying my discomfort immensely.
Sadistic bugger.
After getting our ice cream cones he yanked on my arm and tugged me out of the store and straight into the middle of the group of boys I was so desperate to avoid. If only I had known I would be seen in public with my dad, I thought, I would have put on some makeup and brushed my hair.
Dad, noticing my red face, did the unthinkable. He stopped dead in the middle of the group and took a big lick of his ice cream cone. He winked at me and started making “Yum, Yum,” sounds as loud as he could. The boys watched the show my dad was putting on with great amusement.
He took another big lick and then grinned at me and grabbed my ice cream cone. He smiled at me and then he smooshed both ice cream cones into the brick wall of the gas station. I stood and watched in horror.
As the boys snickered.
Dad, satisfied the ice cream wasn’t going to fall off the cones and onto the pavement by our feet, looked at me, looked at the boys and took a great big exaggerated lick while practically yelling, “Yummy!” He handed back my ice cream cone and smiled.
“Go on, take a lick. It won’t fall off now,” he grinned.
I looked at him, horrified by how he had just demonstrated his redneck ways in front of a group of cute city boys, and tentatively touched the tip of my tongue to the smushed scoops of ice cream now beginning to drip down the side of the cone.
“See, it’s YUMMY!” he snorted and urged me to take a bigger lick.
Meanwhile, the boys all silently watched, grinning and feeding off my humiliation.
I took a big lick this time, anything to get my dad to move his feet which seemed permanently welded to the concrete at this point and get back into the damn vehicle. “Yum,” I murmured as I wished for the ground to swallow me whole.
Dad, satisfied he had accomplished his mission to mortify his oldest daughter and turn her into a social pariah for the rest of her high school years, laughed and started his way to the truck.
Just as I was about to hop in and hide under the dash, my dad called my name out. All the boys turned with great interest to see what other horrors this father had in mind for his daughter, their school mate.
“You remember how I smashed the ice cream into the wall today. Next time it will be a boy’s head if he ever asks you to lick anything of his,” he growled at the boys.
Suddenly the snickering stopped and the boys all went kinda green.
None of them ever asked me out. Thanks Dad.
“And that’s why I don’t want to take the kids to go get ice cream. I was known as the Smasher’s Daughter for three years! I wasn’t COOL! If it wasn’t for you, I’d have never had a boyfriend in high school and I would probably be single and living with a bunch of cats and a pile of used vibrators!” I told Boo.
Boo was busting a gut laughing, picturing my father threatening those boys and embarrassing me all at the same time.
“That’s so awful! I can totally picture your dad doing that,” he giggled. “No wonder you were such a geek back then,” he laughed.
“Bite me.”
“I have a better idea,” he grinned and stood up.
“Hey Fric, how ’bout a father-daughter outing and we grab some ice cream?”
Looks like I’ll soon have company as I eat my ice cream at home. I better buy a bigger carton of ice cream.
June 30th, 2008 at 11:09 am
Wow. And I thought MY parents were mean. Sorry you had to endure that.
June 30th, 2008 at 11:24 am
ok this was sad for you as a child…poor thing. But why is this story making me laugh? I think its because I live amongst the rednecks now and can definitely see them doing something like this.
If only you had worn makeup that night…maybe things could have been different.
peace
#2
June 30th, 2008 at 11:39 am
Well, well, well. This just makes me oh-so-happy that I had a dead beat dad who couldn’t be bothered with hanging around long enough to mortify me.
Thanks for putting things in perspective!! LOL!!
June 30th, 2008 at 11:41 am
Oh how embarrassing!! My dad did all his intimidating in other ways…like cleaning his gun when a boy picked me up.
June 30th, 2008 at 11:48 am
That must have been horrible for you. Good thing my dad isnt here with me. There was once whenever a boy I once had a crush on walked by me and my family while i was stuffing my face and said hi. I was so embarrassed! But it was my own fault.
June 30th, 2008 at 12:05 pm
THAT is seriously one of the FUNNIEST things I have ever heard! AND a great way to keep my soon to be (soon enough anyway) teenage girls home on the weekends! I LOVE IT!
June 30th, 2008 at 12:33 pm
Dude, I needed that laugh today. Thanks, lover.
June 30th, 2008 at 12:54 pm
This makes my dad sound not so bad!! Man, that is one way of mortifying teenagers.
June 30th, 2008 at 1:00 pm
I love your stories!
June 30th, 2008 at 1:09 pm
Oh my goodness…how horrifying for you! But I have to admit I laughed out loud when I read it. Got some looks from my cubilce mates.
Thanks for the smiles.
June 30th, 2008 at 1:11 pm
Since I’m no longer a teenage boy I can say this, “I like your dad’s style.”
June 30th, 2008 at 1:11 pm
Sometimes I wonder if my dad would have done something like this if he had lived to see my teen years.
And for Princess’s sake I dearly hope that Honey doesn’t read your blog.
June 30th, 2008 at 1:16 pm
Seriously…my dad and my two brothers all used to clean their guns when a guy would pick me up for a date. My dad actually threatened a guy with a baseball bat if he ever came near me because he’d heard some rumor from some other parent about what a horn dog he was…lol. I can look at it and laugh now but I was mortified back then. I hope you get over your fear of icecream shacks and don’t let Boo embarass Fric too much…
June 30th, 2008 at 1:31 pm
Thats so embarrasing. I had to send it to my hubby. Our daughter has been begging to go to the ice cream shop the past few weeks, I have a feeling he is going to take her now!
June 30th, 2008 at 1:43 pm
I would have been mortified too but now that i have a beautiful daughter
i hate to say it but your dad was a genius
June 30th, 2008 at 1:48 pm
I think that was incredibly mean of your dad to do that even if his only intention was to protect you from say an under-age pregnancy it would still be mean & to me a nasty way to treat a daughter.
Maybe your 10 minutes of whining irritated him more than you thought & this was him getting his own back but to me it seems over the top and cruel.
June 30th, 2008 at 1:52 pm
I totally agree. Ice cream is intended to be eaten in your own house, while hiding from the public when it drips from the spoon onto your clothes and all over your face…
So I’ve heard.
June 30th, 2008 at 2:38 pm
Oh my gosh, I don’t know what to say.. However, I just wrote a nasty email about my granddaughters and they commented a nasty note back.. So now I feel bad that I wrote it..
wow….
Hope your alright with that memory..
Hugs to you.
Dorothy from grammology
remember to hug gram
grammology.com
June 30th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
You know how when you have a bunch of transparencies and you draw a little part of picture on one, and then put another one on top and draw more of a picture and then another and another and then with the last one you draw the part of the picture that makes sense of all of the other parts?
I forgot what I was going to say, but I like your dad.
June 30th, 2008 at 3:14 pm
Dads have to be creative in connecting with their teenage daughters. You have to at least give him an A for the effort. But only a D for tact.
June 30th, 2008 at 4:30 pm
Hehe. I remember Dad just looking at them. That was enough. My Dad looked like Patrick Stewart, only with darker and slightly more hair. He could give you a look that would make you salute if you were a Star Trek fan. Everyone my age was scared of him.
June 30th, 2008 at 4:37 pm
Did we have the same father? How did my dad manage to commute way out there?
June 30th, 2008 at 5:22 pm
I have to think your Dad did you a favor. With his actions, he built up a serious wall around you. Only someone who had the desire to knock it down made it through - your husband.
June 30th, 2008 at 5:41 pm
Ha! Ha I just read that outloud to my husband! I can just see him doing that with our daughter!! How embarrassing parents can be!! Good thing we all get a shot at it!
June 30th, 2008 at 5:47 pm
When I was 14 we were out on the lake with my family and my boyfriends family. I fell asleep when I was laying out and apparently passed a little gas. From that day until I was about 20 my family called me “Blossom.” As in “Fart Blossom.” If that wasn’t bad enough, they went on to explain it to every friend and boyfriend I managed to get. They did this while my dad cleaned his nails with his Buck knife. Needless to say, I didn’t have many friends til after I moved out.
www.notesfromthesleepdeprived.blogspot.com
July 1st, 2008 at 1:36 am
Oh Babe, your dad was fierce! I brought my first boyfriend home when I was 10. You know the ‘you are my boyfriend but we just sorta stand around looking at each other too scared to touch’ kinda boyfriend.
My mother took one look at him and said, loud enough for him to hear ‘Don’t you let him touch you DOWN THERE!’
FMD I nearly died. He still remembered 10 years later. He thought she was pointing at my hand.
July 1st, 2008 at 4:44 am
I have to apoligize for LMAO at your discomort but this is GREAT.
I am sending it to my ex so he will take our daughter for ice cream.
Eating ice cream at home is better anyway, you can have the extra scoop you so desire without anyone looking at you as if, enough already!!
July 1st, 2008 at 7:06 am
I’m laughing my ass off. That story is so funny but I’m sorry it happened to you. My dad just liked to threaten the boys with his guns. Yea good ole redneck times huh? LOL
July 1st, 2008 at 7:12 am
Wow…it isn’t often I feel relieved my dad died when I was 12! That is truly crushing for a teen….I wouldn’t eat ice cream out either!!
July 1st, 2008 at 8:30 am
Tanis your dad scares me. Seriously. I will never look at an ice cream cone quite the same way again.
July 1st, 2008 at 9:31 am
Makes me so glad that my father limited his fatherly advice to telling me to stay out of backseats of cars.
July 1st, 2008 at 10:02 am
What a story! Incredible!
July 1st, 2008 at 12:02 pm
Your dad rules.
July 1st, 2008 at 12:56 pm
oh god honey.
I’m sorry but that is horrifying. Effective. But horrifying. I would have died on the spot. dieeeed.
sheesh.
July 1st, 2008 at 1:36 pm
Oh honey! I am so sorry. I wanted to crawl under my desk reading that.
July 1st, 2008 at 2:59 pm
Oh my gawd…how embarrassing for you…your dad must have sure loved you to have gone to this length to make a point to these boys. I think most dads that have daughters can relate to the point that your dad was making here. Great post!
July 1st, 2008 at 8:33 pm
This is a story I won’t be sharing with my husband. My daughter will thank me one day!
July 1st, 2008 at 10:44 pm
I would want to just melt, like the ice cream, in to a puddle and down a sidewalk crack.
The worst for me? The day my father brought me pads at school. In the middle of class. Then loudly said “Here’s your rags.” I cried. Literally. Everyone then knew I was on my period. To this day I will not go out and purchase them unless I’m going to purchase so much stuff no one will ever see them. If I can’t purchase that much stuff then DH goes, bless his heart, and buys them for me.
July 2nd, 2008 at 6:37 am
Oh funny…I first wondered if eating dirty ice cream was a family thing! Sounds like something my hubby would have done to his sister. :O)
July 2nd, 2008 at 6:37 am
I don’t know if I could forgive my dad for doing something like that. Good thing my dad’s three parts hermit.
July 2nd, 2008 at 4:11 pm
I think are dads know each other. I was about 13 and was having a sleep over when he came out in the living room and said you left your bra in our bathroom again. I immediate thougth “oh no”. He had his hand behind his back and pulled out two bandaids he and tied together with floss. The Horror! Dad didn’t have to threaten the boys, my 3 older brothers did that for me. Yep, they all have shot guns. lol
July 3rd, 2008 at 7:01 am
Hubby once took a wanna be 11 yr old boy friend to L*wes to pick his own shovel.
When kiddo asked what he needed a shovel for Hubby looked him dead in the eye and said, “The day you make my daughter cry.”
To his credit kiddo didn’t bat an eyelash just smiled and said,”Well get a big one. I’m hard headed and you’ll be pretty old when that happens.”
They ended up going for Root Beers.
July 3rd, 2008 at 7:29 am
Well, that explains a lot of things! Have you forgiven him for this?
July 3rd, 2008 at 8:31 am
Your dad rocks!
I am so going to steal this in about three years.
July 6th, 2008 at 6:46 pm
Why is it they take such pleasure in embarrassing their children? Is it payback for the sleepless nights, the worry, the hundreds of thousand of dollars they cost?
July 23rd, 2008 at 2:20 pm
I was fourteen, and had my “friend” over for dinner. He was adorable, in only the way a surfer boy from Jersey can be.
My mother had made pot roast, a loaf of bread, mashed potatoes, and gravy.
My father, being the clown he was, proceeded to take his bread, fold it in two, dip it in the gravy, and yell ‘Look! I have diarrhea! Pwthhh!’
It’s no wonder I’m nuts.
July 28th, 2008 at 8:03 am
OMG, is it hilarious or is it incredibly cruel? I can’t decide!