Weird Things Adults Said When We Were Children: A Retrospective

Growing up, we're often subjected to some peculiar and unexpected remarks from adults. These comments, whether intentional or not, shape our perceptions and can sometimes be quite intriguing. Here, we explore a few of those unique and often confounding conversations that would come up when we were children.

Strange Questioning: Rupert Brooke at an Unlikely Age

One of the earliest and most perplexing experiences I had as a child happened when I was around four or five years old. My mother and I were out shopping together, and a stranger approached us and asked if I liked Rupert Brooke. No, I had no idea who he was, but the answer seemed to be important to the man as he promptly handed me a book filled with Rupert Brooke's poems. This indeed felt rather peculiar since his poetry was far from the realm of my interests as a child. Even now, I am left wondering why a stranger would ask such a specific question and then give a little girl a book of poems. While I still possess this book, the whole exchange remains a fascinating memory of my childhood.

Age-Inappropriate Advice: Trust No Women

At around eleven or twelve years old, an uninvited guest at my father's place told me it was wise to never trust a woman, as they tend to make men unhappy. This piece of advice, delivered with such conviction by someone who knew neither my father nor me, was somewhat bewildering. What did this stranger know about the nature of women to make such a blanket statement about them? While the advice might be well-intentioned, its application at my age was quite inappropriate. Nonetheless, the message stuck in my mind, reflecting an interest in the mystery behind gender dynamics that matured slowly through the years.

Morbid Prophecies and Creepy Predictions: Childhood Fears

When I was six, I shared a bond of constant companionship with a neighbor boy named R. We spent countless hours together, and my world revolved around our shared adventures. However, a drastic change in this routine arrived when another boy moved in next door whose sister provided the company I craved but whose behavior was far from commendable. During one of these instances when the sister was absent, we were left alone playing together. It was at this moment that R's father, with a look of confusion and a hint of sternness, stated, 'You are going to marry this boy and not my son.' The statement left me bewildered, as marriage was indeed a far-off concept at six. The remark felt both chilling and concerning, reverberating with the uncomfortable undercurrent of R's father's disappointment in our mutual playtime.

Anger and Discipline: A Father’s Legacy

Beyond the bizarre and slightly creepy remarks, my father also had a reputation for sternness and even physical discipline. He would often say phrases like, 'I'm going to knock you on your ass,' or 'I'll box your ears,' or 'I will give you an ass beating you won't soon forget.' In his 50s, he continued to stir the pot of discipline, and the memory of his actions remain fresh. Some of these instances even included more extreme measures, such as using limbs from weeping willow trees to mark my back or using one arm to hold me up and the other to kick me. These actions were rooted in a place of frustration, but they also left a lasting mark on me, serving as warnings of his volatile nature.

On a more serious note, his violent tendencies had a profound impact on me. While physical discipline has now ceased, the anger and resentment that came with it still linger. I sometimes wonder how I would respond if he were to show me further hostility, and I know that in such a scenario, the consequences could be dire. As a result, I have taken protective measures, such as traveling three hours away to escape any potential threats to my safety.

In the end, these childhood memories, though tinged with a mix of amusement and discomfort, play a significant role in shaping who I am today. They reflect the complex blending of confounding and contradictory messages that we often receive from adults during our formative years.