Welcome Guest Login or Signup

Daddy Shot Who?
Posted On 07/12/2020 19:56:46 by texasjane

I had overheard my grandmother make the remark that men sat on their brains.  This made me worry every time my dad passed gas, my sister sat on his lap, or his bottom was in any danger.  The adults had no idea how worried I was.

It was about ten o'clock at night.  My daddy had been working late.  He was a gemologist and diamond expert.  He was quiet often called in to appraise stones from private collections as well as corporations like jewelry stores.  He always had some industrial grade diamonds in his pockets.  Each one was cut with a different cut.  He used them to educate those he was appraising for as well as stone cutters he constantly worked with.  Daddy also came home with some very large collections.  We had become used to the routine when he came home.  He carried a pistol in his back pocket just as a precaution.  We all had to sit very still until Daddy came in and went and put his pistol and his inventory into the safe and came back into the room.  Then we could run and hug him.

I am sure Daddy being deaf contributed to the problems we were in store for.  He did not hear the man pull in behind him on the driveway.  Nor did he hear him get out of his car or follow him up onto the porch.   Daddy could hear with his hearing aid on but most the time he read lips so did not need it at home as much.  He had already pulled the ear pieces out of his ears and they were dangling from wires that led to the little box inside his shirt.  The confusion that followed would be explained for many years to prove Grandmother was almost always right.

My mother once described the evening as so confusing she was ready to put Daddy out and go to bed with the cat.  Everything happened at once.

My mother, my grandmother and I were all in the front living room watching TV.  Mother and I were in one corner opposite to the front door.  Mother was in a chair and I was on the floor rubbing her feet.  Grandmother was on the sofa on the opposite side of the room and to the left of the front door.  We were actually expecting Daddy to come home the next morning so were all surprised when he came through the door.

A man who had followed him home pushed Daddy through the rest of the doorway which made Daddy trip as he grabbed his pistol.  The key chain was attached to a belt loop and the pistol got caught on the trigger.  The gun fired.  The bullet when through my Daddy's bottom down his leg and into the bottom of the intruder who was now on the floor.  He had lost his balance when pushing my Daddy which resulted in getting stuck on the key which was still in the door.  I screamed my head off.  My mother screamed, my grandmother got mad.  She got up... all 4'11" was shouting at the intruder, "You Son of a Siberian Sea Cook; What the Hell do you think you are doing?"

I saw the blood.  I scream, "Daddy's brains are coming out.  He shot his brains out.  Daddy, why did you shoot your brains out?"  The man really looked at me like I had lost my mind.  I looked at him and said, "He shot yours out with the same bullet."  My mother, ran over to Daddy, and grabbed the phone.  She joined my grandmother in anger as she called the police.

The man started to get up and run back out the still open door but his shoes slipped on the puddle of blood now on the floor.  He lands on his knee, yells in pain and grabs his bottom.  My Daddy had hit his head on the fireplace and was a little foggy.  I was so afraid his brains were leaking out.  Both men were bleeding.  What followed was most confusing.

The man still had this hand up like it was a pistol.  Grandmother, said "Why don't you just blow on it and put it away, before it goes off."  The man looked at his hand and realized the finger he had put in my daddy's back was still pointing.  He immediately put it down.  He moaned and looked up at my grandmother as she began to unleash her Irish.  "What do you think you are doing?"

"I was going to push the old geezer down and grab the diamonds and take off.  What do ya' think, lady?"  The man made a bad choice smarting off to my grandmother.  She stood over him, all 4' 11" and she said, "Well, that plan has turned into a real pain in the a.."

"Mother."  My mother said.   Grandmother glanced over to see me listening to every word.

"Ah, Ah,  a pain in your petunia."  I would like to add at this point that from this moment on (in our family) the word for bottom became petunia.  I was always getting my petunia swatted.

  I was wondering if grandmother was going to make him go out and pick out a switch.  The man was bleeding all over, just like Daddy.  He started to say something to Grandmother, "Hay, Lady... "  Grandmother stormed off to the front bedroom.  She came back in just a few seconds with a pearl handled revolver.  The man let go of his bottom and held up both hands.  "Please, Lady... You gonna shoot me?"

"No, I just want you to see who you are dealing with.  This is the gun my mother used to carry in her garter.  I am not some wall flower ready to let you harm one hair on ANYONE in my family.  The guy started crying.  Now, my angry grandmother went into the front bedroom again.  When she came back the gun was gone and she brought a small pillow for the guy's head.  She patted his head once he lowered it on the pillow.  Then she asked, "Does your mother know what you do for a living?"   The shame came over the man's face.  "What is her phone number?"  I am no longer scared but I am really beginning to worry about seeing someone's brains come out any minute.   Grandmother calls the guys mother.  She brings him the phone after she tells her what her son has been doing.  About that time the police show up.  

The police arrived and were astonished at what they walked into.  My grandmother had used a robe-tie to tie the hands of the intruder and given him a pillow for his head.  He kept apologizing for all the problems and for hurting Daddy.  The last thing he expected was to get shot in the bottom.  All he wanted were some diamonds.  He had followed Daddy home without thinking there may be a family there.  Grandmother shook her head.  "It is supposed to be two birds with one stone not two butts with one bullet."  Grandmother as usual was trying to see the funny side of it all.  She had been telling my Daddy for months to get rid of the gun because he would get hurt.  Daddy assured her he knew how to handle a gun.  At this point we no longer believed him.

When the police came through the door I shouted, "Daddy shot his brains out!!"  Daddy's head had cleared a bit but he had a very nasty bump on his head.  The pistol had been turned over to the police.  I saw all the blood on the floor where Daddy had been laying and just kept saying, "Daddy, shot his brains out."  Daddy started laughing.  The police man was so surprised.  "Why are you laughing?"  He said.  "What can I say?  I shot my brains out."  He started laughing again.  The officer scratched his head and said, "I have got to find out what is so funny.  Do you mind if I go with you in the ambulance?"  He did too.  Two other officers stayed and got statements from the rest of us.  I still remember hearing Daddy laughing as they loaded him in the ambulance.  The wound made it difficult for Daddy to sit for a while.  He had stitches.  The intruder had to have the bullet removed.  None of the wounds were critical.

Later that night after Daddy had gotten his two holes stitched up and everyone was home.  After all the lights were out and the house was quiet.  I heard grandmother quietly crying under her covers.  Like always, she never went to pieces until the crisis was over.  She was still crying when I fell asleep.    

Daddy never again carried a pistol not even in his back pocket.  From that point on he shipped all inventories he was responsible for through insured carriers.

It took some convincing but my grandmother and mother finally convinced me that the blood had nothing to do with the lose of my father's brains.  I was so glad to learn my Daddy's brains were in his head and not in his bottom.  I was still not sure everyone was telling me the whole story so I  remained cautious when sitting on his lap.

The trial was interesting.  The intruder was ask if he had any remorse for what he had attempted to do?  He looked straight at my grandmother.  "Yes, but it was not from getting shot in the butt.  It was because that little woman right there (he pointed to grandmother) shot me in the heart with some good common sense.  I will serve what ever time I have coming but I will never again try to take something that not mine.  Believe me judge, I am more afraid of that little Irish woman than I am of a bullet.  She found out and called my mother.  Yes, judge I have a lot of remorse.  I am truly sorry."

Grandmother nodded with a sweet smile.  Patted the hand of a woman sitting next to her who also smiled and nodded.  When ever my grandmother told this story to anyone she says it is the day her son in law shot his brains out.  It became a family giggle.

Tags: Memories Family


Viewing 1 - 3 out of 3 Comments

07/18/2020 02:31:57

I have revised this story.  It is funny when you scratch a memory.  Bits and pieces of it come to the surface a little at a time.  True stories mean more when you know more.  Enjoy.

07/14/2020 11:16:54

Jane wrote:
I commend you your patience.  In that type of situation I find that it helps if you talk to the reacher.  I have threatened mine several times with the idea of using it to pick up dog poop in the backyard.  It does seem to help.  Don't try it on a smart phone... the phone does not care how many times you hang up on someone ... they will not co operate if they are just not in the mood.  I think cats become smart phones when they come back... somehow it fits.  The next time you have problems with you reacher... seriously but something sticky on the end of it so it will not have to actually pick something up and and stick it up... LOL.  It saves a lot of grief.  

Well, Jane, I don't have a dog or 'critter' and I dropped a small piece of pretzel on the floor. Remember my physical ability when you read this. I took my 'reacher' and tried 4 times to pick up the 1 inch piece of pretzel, so I wouldn't step on it or run it over with the wheels of the rollator. Discouraged because I couldn't 'get it up', I sat down in the living room for a bit. A half hour later, I needed to come out here to the computer, and as I 'rolled', I thought I would try one more time. I tried to physically get my fingers on it, but they didn't reach,so I tried ONE more time(5th) and miracle of miracles,(or with God's help), the reacher picked it up!! No mess of crumbs on the carpet- no signs of it - and now it is in the trash can - mission accomplished. Not a day like you have, or an occurence that is as funny, but bless you - I did think of you!!  jane

07/13/2020 13:21:00

Jane wrote:
   I guess I should have named this one Brain Burn 2 so that the reader would have the whole story.  You should have seen the look on the guy's face when my grandmother demanded to know his mother's phone number.  She actually called his mother.  I know my grandmother was frightened but she is just as frightening when she was angry as when she is frightened. I know I was sitting in the corner watching.  I half expected her to go out and get a switch.  I decided she did not because he could not get up to go pick it out himself.  She always made me pick out my switch.  You are right about one thing for sure.  She was 6 foot tall when someone threatened her family.  After the police came and the house got quiet, I could hear her crying quietly.  I knew she was reacting out of fear.  It was a frightening experience for a child.  Grandmother made it a family giggle.

What fun to read!! Never a dull moment in your stories!!! People do say things that can confuse a child, when heard.  Your grandmother, slight in height, was so tall in her image - partly by "sayings". The old "expressions" people used - (and some of the new ones used now) could confuse the  smallest child or the most interested adult who hears them spoken. Keep writing, friend, and sharing with us. What a nice way to start my day -- with a smile.

Smileycons  -  FolderMagic  -  CalendarPal  -  Cloudeight Stationery  -   NotOverTheHill Powered by M3Server.com