There are few words that will make a child either cower or laugh, quicker than when you hear ‘Wait until your father gets home.’.
In our home, that usually meant that mom didn’t guess how to punish us and he had to wait until Mom got home to discuss it.
Periodically, it meant that if he tried to punish us, he was going to beginning laughing and after that the two of us would guess the two of us didn’t do anything wrong. The only time the two of us knew the two of us were entirely in trouble, was when our brother and I broke the window a/c unit. Our room never entirely had great a/c so mom and Mom obtained us a window AC device for our dining room. We were roughhousing one evening, which the two of us weren’t supposed to be doing in our dining room. She always said that one of us was going to end up falling out the window. Since the two of us were on the minute floor, I was sure it would have actually been me and I would be hurt. I was the youngest. Instead of us going through the window, the a/c fell out the window. It was enjoy watching in slow motion as the a/c started to transfer and then fell. We watched as it fell to the ground and blew up into many, several pieces. Mom was coming across the driveway when he saw the AC device split apart. We locked the dining room door when he shook his fist and said, ‘Wait until your father gets home.’ We had never seen mom angrier in our entire twelve years of life.