Lying was at the top of the list, but like some here, it didn't take much to get the old man flying into a violent, abusive rage. When I was around 4 he broke two of my fingers with a metal serving spoon for reaching across the dinner table to grab a french fry or something. Nice guy. Wee Muther kept the two of us home from early grammar school on a number of occasions because the angry welts left by his double-grommeted belt and buckle were so obvious from his vicious and occasionally prolonged beatings.
When I was 12 and living in Tokyo he knocked out a front tooth with his shod foot after laying me low with a right hand. This for smoking and lying about it. Soon after, following another beating, with blood running out of my nose and mouth, I looked at him dead in the eyes and quietly told him that I was done being abused and that the next time he raised his hand at me or my brother, I'd do my damndest to not only defend myself, but to kill him. He never beat us again. Good thing, because my threat was as serious as a heart attack.
I love my dad, despite his being an abusive, cruel bastard to me and my brother when we were young. If nothing else, I learned that actions can have consequences, and that a man is only as good as his word-- and any threats he poses. If you don't follow through on them even once, you just might get called on them. I've only told a few people that I'd kill them if they didn't do -------, but every time, I meant it.
Fun thread.
