Oh, I can think of many…

It is so much fun to be passive aggressive to someone who is more often than not, rude to you, and scream at you constantly. I consider it a form of mental Aikido or Judo, when you use your opponents strengths against them.

A simple “please” and “thank you” can go a long way with me. After all, it was drilled into me since childhood by my parents. Yet, it always seemed ironic that while courtesy was demanded of me, my family would not grant me the same.

For example, when my sisters started talking about me in the third person as if I was not there, I just acted as if I really wasn’t there. Drove them mad!

But the best passive aggressive act I ever pulled off was with my father. My father was an authoritarian man. Not a bad man by any measure, but he was incredibly strict and his word was law. When he barked out an order, he expected to be obeyed. But in his older age, he got crotchety, like a lot of elderly people do.

Anyhow, there was this one time we went to the U.S. to visit relatives. Since I was a grown man and my dad was seventy, I had taken over many of his previous responsibilities, such as driving and carrying heavy stuff. But my father still, on occasion, wanted to act like the Big Bad Boss-Man and order me about.

We had just gotten back from shopping, and I parked the car in my Uncle and Aunt’s driveway to get our purchases out of the car and into the house by the shortest route. My parents had gone to their room, and I got everything out and put out of the way, and then I thought: “I’d better move the car, or my Uncle won’t be able to park in his spot”. So, I moved our car and parked it by the street curb. That’s what responsible person would do.

So, after having made sure that the car wasn’t in anybody’s way and our purchases had been stowed away, I sat down on the couch and went back to the book I was reading. Not one minute later, my dad came in and barked at me: “ Go move the car!”

All I could think of at the moment was that I, who was almost thirty at the time, was being yelled as if I were a thirteen year old boy who didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground by a grumpy old man who couldn’t stand to see anyone enjoy himself. Since I knew that there was no point in getting angry or even explaining to my father that I was a grown man with initiative who knew what to do and when to do it without being told, I decided to have a little fun. Moreover, I did not care for his tone of voice.

I answered: “What for?”

“Because your Uncle won’t be able to park in his spot!”

“Dad”, I replied, “My Uncle will be able to park without any difficulty”.

Go move the car!!!

“Dad”, I said patiently, “there is no need to move the car…”

“GO MOVE THE CAR!!!”

“Dad, I’m telling you, the car is fine where it is… there is no need to move it…”

This is when my dad blew a head gasket. He grabbed the keys, and headed for the door mumbling something under his breath about me having no respect for him and that he had to do everything himself. At the same time, my mother and Aunt (my father’s sister) came into the living room from the kitchen. I whispered to them: “Mom… Auntie… Check this out… Look at what’s gonna happen…” Just a second later, my dad, still mumbling, reached the door, opened it wide, and stopped cold in his tracks, shocked into silence. He finally saw that I had already moved the car.

My aunt and I had a very good laugh. My mother, having no sense of humor, could only ask: “Why do you have to make your father so angry?” My father, who took the prank in good nature, came to me and asked with a little bit more of humility, “Son… why didn’t you just tell that you had already moved the car…?”

“Well, dad… you didn’t ASK me if I had moved the car… You told me to go move it and I told you that there was no need…”

“Oh…” mumbled my father as he smiled and walked away…