• theangryseal@lemmy.world
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    10 hours ago

    My dad used to make me and my brother fight all the time when we were kids. It was like a family sporting event. All of the men gathered around and shouted, “git eeem buddy, don’t let eem gitchya! That’s riiite, yeah! Git eem in the belly!”

    It usually ended with one of us crying and the men saying, “awwwww, calm down sis. It’s just a bloody nose.”

    Reminds me of one of my favorite things I ever heard my dad say.

    He said something that upset my brother when I was winning the fight, so my brother charged him. He put his hand on my brother’s head and held him back while he swung with all of his might.

    My dad laughed and said. “HUHT HUHT! Look at eem, he’s like a little banty rooster! He’s flogging with all his little might! (bantam rooster, dad pronounced it “bay-nee)

    It riled my brother up for days. I called him banty for years. Hahaha

    For fun, this is a bantam rooster trying to fight a normal sized rooster.

    • Flocklesscrow@lemm.ee
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      8 hours ago

      One of the commonalities of trauma is sharing those traumatic experiences with others and then seeing them look aghast.

      • CascadianGiraffe@lemmy.world
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        5 hours ago

        The best is when you’re sharing a regular story and someone else has to explain how fucked up it was.

        Like I’m sorry, I thought that was normal and was sharing because I thought you could relate. No, I don’t need the contact info for your therapist.