A trait I inherited from my father is niceness. I’m a gal that knows no strangers. I’ve never understood the thought process of being a jerk first, then becoming nice as you get to know someone. It has nothing to do with karma, though I do believe niceness comes back to you. It has nothing to do with my faith, though I am a true believer. It has nothing to do with my southern upbringing, though I do believe in southern hospitality. It’s not something that was consciously taught to me, though I do believe we are for the most part a product of our environment. That being said, seeing my Dad always nice, even in subtle ways instilled in me to be the same. Always the kind of guy that relished in positivity, didn’t like for other people to dislike him, certainly didn’t want his children mad at him or my mom for that matter. He was the life of the party and everyone rejoiced when he walked in the room. I remember wanting to be that person. He was a terrible disciplinarian, though. Usually leaving that task up to Mother, and in retrospect I know why. He never wanted to be the bad guy. My dad was a lover, not a fighter.
….but, when you pushed him over the edge, you better run. Fast. It took a lot to push him over that edge and by “a lot” I mean shit ton. My brother and sister will both agree that if Dad was mad at us, we had really, really fucked up. I was the same way with my children. After the smoke clears, they like to come back and make fun of me. It’s basically, “Aw shit, Mom let her crazy out and that sucks. At least we know it’ll be a long damn before we see the crazy again!”
In the same turn, when pushed over the edge by anyone or anything that isn’t your children, the wrath is more than any mere mortal can bear.
I saw this on Tumblr yesterday and found myself nodding in agreement. Then I noticed this comment immediately underneath it:
“Demons run when a good man goes to war.”
I thought, at that very moment, truer words had never been spoken.
I had never read that before. I do realize this is from Dr. Who (after Googling it) so don’t chastise me for not being as big of a Whovian fan as you are… I don’t watch that much television. It’s just that this is so relateable.
I can take it. I can a lot. In fact, I can usually take a shit ton. I’m one of the nicest gals you’ll ever meet and chances are, you’ll never EVER meet my crazy. But don’t push me too far because much like my dad, when I’m over the edge,
even Demons run.