"Day 3" of the blog challenge
My parents have been married for thirty-six years. I can always remember because I was born on their first anniversary. My mom says that proves that she wasn't pregnant when they got married.
For most of my childhood my mom was a stay-at-home-mom. She did all the things one would expect: kept the house clean, cooked, ironed clothes, watched the stories...you know, typical really.
She was the softy when it came to discipline. Not that we got by with anything, mind you. She just had a different style.
My dad worked doing machine repair all of my life (until he retired last summer) with the bulk of it being with General Motors. He was the disciplinarian in the house, and we knew the majority of things that would get us into trouble, but there were the little daily things that we would get in trouble for. He is probably would one would call, "Hardcore." Children were to been seen and not heard. Unless spoken to.
(I am not saying we were abused--I don't think we were. But I am purposely being vague for a reason.)
My parents have known each other since they were seven years old. At one time, my grandfather (mom's dad) was my grandmother's (dad's mom) boss. I am not sure why the families were getting together, but they did.
But, they both had moved around some (still bumping into one another over the years) eventually meeting at a mutual friend's party when they were seventeen.
The rest, as they say, is history.
I tell people that I was raised in the North but with Southern values. My mom's family is from Kentucky, and my Dad's is from Tennessee. My parents worked hard, did the best they could with what they had, and tried to right by my brother and me.