They behave exactly like that abusive father no one wants to have.
One moment, it is all smiles and lovey-dovey, the next a violent outburst, followed by justifications, blame, remorse and promises of a better tomorrow.
That tomorrow comes, and it turns out to be the same as today with minimal variations. This time, daddy gets drunk, anywhere between tipsy and dead drunk as in Angela's Ashes, and the punch leaves a big bruise on your chest.
Daddy not just makes the law, daddy is the law when you are a child.
You learn to value the moments he is busy with something else, getting drunk on booze at home or on power somewhere else.
You are terrorized when you see signs of an impending explosion of paternal violence -- that may never come. Or it does come.
The unpredictability of the father figure becomes predictable, and you manage to create your own world. If he takes away your most beloved toy and smashes it into bits and pieces in front of you because you misbehaved, you learn that he expects grief over the toy, and you show appropriate distress.
But just the right amount, not too much and not too little, yet in the knowledge that even the right amount may not be the right amount (that's what unpredictability means).
Whatever he does, he never fails to tell you it is out of love for you and out of a deep sense of responsibility for your well-being.
Of course, not all of the many siblings in the family develop the same coping mechanisms and the same love for daddy. We include the rebel, the clown, the cutie pie, the spoiled one, the clone of daddy's behavior, and you learn that all alliances are fleeting.
Pocket money is rare, and the spoiled one won't share, but that's okay, you find odd jobs early.
You realize at some point in time that daddy may be able to kill you and get away with it by just planting a knife next to you after he did the deed but that he does not have power over who you are.
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