I had a long trial today. A difficult case involving two not-perfect people arguing over who should have custody of the kids, what the parenting time should be for the non-custodial parent, spousal maintenance, child support, division of property.... pretty much the works. I was exhausted by the end.
It was all worth it, though. The judge channeled "Judge Judy" when the opposing party denied ever yelling at the kids at the end of a day's worth of testimony by witnesses stating he yells at the kids every day about nearly everything. The judge literally told him he shouldn't lie to the court, and he should stop yelling at his kids, too.
"You know," said the judge, "a grain of sand to a man is like a boulder for a little girl. In case you missed the analogy, that means it might not bother you to be yelled at like that, but to your little girls it is torture. Just stop it right now! Otherwise, that's all they'll remember when they're older. It'll be: Yeah, my dad drove me to soccer sometimes, and he yelled at me every day. Sometimes he took us fishing, but he just yelled at us all the time.... Is that what you want your girls to remember you for? Is it?!?"
The judge was right. Makes you wonder, though, what sort of personal experience brings on that sort of dressing-down.