Circa 1976 or so, my father, via his work, got tickets to a Cowboys-Steelers football game.
The first thing to go wrong, on the drive out to the game... It was a cold day, but no one had thought to give me a coat to wear. My mother later said she'd followed us on the highway (with my coat), to no avail.
After the game: The sponsored bus to and from the game was fine. What was NOT fine was my father driving me home (we lived out in Briar, Texas, which was 15 minutes outside of Azle, which was 40 minutes outside of Fort Worth).
My father was so drunk after the game that he couldn't steer straight. I was about 12, and had to keep nudging him to stay awake and had to keep grabbing the steering wheel. I remember the car swerving off into the other lane on many occasions... but we survived.
This is an example of nearly everything that I experienced as a kid. There was always something at least mildly creepy and scary going on (and sometimes actually life-threatening, as I only realized later).
It was only as I grew up and went to college (where I was finally around other people with whom I shared "intense, intimate thoughts," per either late-night sharing or tipsy café sharing, back when English majors used to drink for hours at cafes) that I realized: Wow... most people came from backgrounds where the father didn't punch the mother in the face because she came home late from a dental appointment, and where the mother didn't intentionally stop the kid from any social interaction, even on graduation night... Wow!