Beyond Babedom

We're (way) over 40. Deal with it.

Thanks, Dad

I just heard that scientists now believe that there’s a big genetic link for depression and that people with parents or siblings who have depression are up to three times more likely to suffer from it.

Daunting numbers  – but is chronic complaining genetic, too?

I don’t know about your childhood, but I grew up in a house where “bitching and moaning” were an everyday occurrence. In the morning, we woke to my father’s complaining. At dinner,  we were treated to more of the same. Snow plows didn’t do a perfect job? Dad was on the phone giving them an earful. Garbage pails weren’t brought back into the yard? We got a 15 minute tirade.  Sears didn’t show up on time for a delivery? He told the poor customer service rep to “take that washing machine, stick it up your _ss and twist it.”

Everyone who knew my Dad – through his bowling league or Babe Ruth baseball or just because he was our Dad – always said “Oh, your father is so nice!” And, to a person, me and my sibs always answered “Try living with him.”

Because a chronic complainer can really tire you out. I’m not saying he didn’t have cause sometimes; maybe a lot of the time. But it was the main reason I wanted to go away to college.

Sure, he only had the use of one arm because the doctor who delivered him slipped up. . . but I never heard him complain about that. And, sure, there were 8 of us in the household – at least – and more when Grandpa or Aunt Rose or some neighborhood kid lived with us. And, yeah, money was really, really tight. But, as a kid, all we knew was that he yelled and cursed and complained endlessly.

His father, my grandfather, couldn’t have been more different. But there were other familial clues that his cantankerousness was hereditary: his aunt and his sister, shall we say, both had personalities that could curdle soy milk. And there are other (not to be named) family members who seem to have followed in his foul-mouthed bellyaching footsteps.

I will admit, I do have a potty mouth. And I sometimes . . . okay frequently complain about things Gary has (or hasn’t) done.  But everyone who knows me agrees I’m one of the sweetest people they know.

Right?

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This entry was posted on Thursday, March 23rd, 2017 at 12:15 PM and is filed under Family, My Pet Peeves. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

  1. Judy Herring says:

    Lucille, YOU are one of the nicest people I know! You make me laugh to the point of tears and/or running to the bathroom!
    Constant complaining IS exhausting, but some people are just that way.
    Neither of my parents were complainers, but one of my siblings was, so I get what you’re saying.
    I do have a potty mouth. Randy will tell me “oh, oh here comes the Jersey out in you”! I usually get that way when I’m really pissed off. Not sure if that is considered complaining.

  2. Camille Lo LoSapio says:

    So very true. He certainly complained a lot! But some of his rants make for good comedy! I miss him.

  3. Diana says:

    So very true. My “X” cannot have a conversation with out bitching about someone or something. I almost don’t know if he realizes what he sounds like. But he sounds just like his father, who he use to complain about. So maybe it is in the genetics.

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