Dadism

Dad

This morning while I was walking the dogs, I started thinking about my dad. He left us twelve years ago today, and certain sayings he often used came to mind. Dad was a Rembrandt when it came to cursing and spewing out cliché expressions of disgust, or impatience. It is from him that I learned most of my favorite swear words. But he was more than just a cursing, potty mouth. He had set lines that he would use all the time. For instance, I remember riding home from my grandmother's house in our old 1953 Plymouth. Each time my dad caught a red light he would start cursing, and say "Turn Irish already."
This is how I learned that the Irish were a race of green people, and that if you turned into an Irishman you were always free to pass through an intersection. It took a few years for me to realize that I might have made an incorrect assumption.

Dad had a lot of other quaint, if not vulgar, expressions that he liked to use. If you were supposed to be doing something, and dad caught you just farting around instead of doing the task at hand, he would tell you to, "Shit or get off the pot." And then there was one of my favorites that he would use on me a lot when I was a teenage punk. When I would act the fool, dad would look at me with a withering stare and ask, "Whaddaya, fuckin' goofy?"
Now I had a smart ass reply for that one, though I never used it. But under my breath I'd always reply, "No, he's a dog."

If any of you, meaning my ten brothers and sisters, or anybody else for that matter, has a favorite 'dad-ism' please share it with all of us in the comment section. 'Mom-isms' are also encouraged.