I'm Going to Tell Your Dad

Today I learned that the high school in my hometown was vandalized over the weekend in an apparent senior class prank. Curious, (let’s be honest—nosy) I went to the hometown newspaper’s website and read the story.


The vandals not only trashed the school, but being in the social media age, they videotaped their prank and posted it to You Tube. The article had a link to the video, so I watched it.

As the camera panned across the building to show graffiti and toilet paper, I realized I never did anything like that growing up for two reasons: Mom and Dad.

See, they terrified me. Or rather, hearing this phrase did: “I’m going to tell your dad.”

My dad was the bad cop in my parents’ disciplinary routine. Mom would give it her best, but if she felt that my brothers and I weren’t responding, she’d trot out the magic phrase. She never bluffed, either. If she uttered those six words, she meant it. And boy was it scary.

To be honest, my parents spanked me twice in my life, and I deserved it. The threat of spanking was enough for me. My dad is a big guy. He wore a thick leather belt. All he had to do after being informed of whatever infraction my brothers and I had committed was to take off said belt and snap it. I’ve never heard a sound scarier than that. The brothers and I would cry and beg forgiveness, throwing out promises to never do it again after hearing that snap.

The thought of being punished by my dad was enough to keep me on the straight and narrow. It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t perfect (I’m still not), but the thought of punishment from Pops made me think twice before doing anything.

I could hear Mom’s voice in my head (“I’m going to tell your dad”) as I noticed the faces of the guilty students reflected in the glass trophy case in several scenes in the short video. If I had done something like that, I would have called the police myself when it was over and begged them to take me to jail. It would have been safer there.

I was visiting my parents last week when I heard my mom say the magic words while talking to my brother. My heart stopped and my stomach flipped before I realized it was in a completely different context.

It still works after all these years.