Today’s story is contributed by Elizabeth Parsons.
For a time, I was the kid you prayed you didn’t get. Hard-headed. Smart-mouthed. Opinionated. Disobedient.
Liz (behaving for once) with her little brother Daniel
Dad? Arch enemy #1 (probably because we are so alike).
What did we fight about? Everything. Bedtime. Friends. TV shows. Madonna. (I worshipped her; Dad was not impressed).
My mission in life: to prove Dad wrong; to show I was right.
Where did I get this obstinate streak? Probably from my lawyer Dad. When he was a kid, he was a handful, too. When he didn’t get his way, he’d hold his breath until he fainted — at least I didn’t do that. READ MORE
I never really knew my grandfather, Chubby. I was too young to remember what he was like. I wish I could remember the day I met him for the first time. From what I’ve been told, it changed my dad’s life.
Brian, Chubby, and Jason, taken on the day dad and Chubby reunited. Chubby still looking a little “shook up.”
Dad returned to Cincinnati after law school to work for Chubby’s real estate firm. They quarreled occasionally, as fathers and sons do, especially in a family business. Dad told me later he realized it was mostly his fault. He was school educated, so he presumed he was also business smart.
My dad and my granddad disagreed on how to run the business, a lot. One fight went too far. Horrible things were said. A standoff ensued. My dad worked in a second floor office. Chubby’s office was downstairs. They didn’t speak for six months.
My mom was pregnant with me at the time. I was born May 24, 1978. Almost twelve pounds. Mom had a cesarean section, and needed a few days in the hospital to recover. Dad was overjoyed. His first-born son.READ MORE