What would your father do if you were kidnapped by Parisian sex traffickers?

In his prime he'd definitely have gone after me. He once warned off an older man who used to invite me and my friend round to his house, although nothing ever happened. I was mortified - wouldn't speak to Dad for days. Twenty years later, blond turns up in the paper, convicted of sexually assaulting teenage girls. I just wish Dad was still alive so that I could apologise.

If our teen dds were spirited away, I suspect that dh would languish around weeping about how awful it all was. One of my inlaws is tough as balls, though, so he'd be our man

My late father was mostly decorative and spent a lot of time pottering around the house in the guise of a smiling buffoon, but in fact he was extremely effective in the Hour of Need. He had a single modus operandi which was to drink copious amounts of red wine/coffee and throw money at the problem. To be honest, it sorted pretty much every family crisis we had over the years.

My mother would mobilise the Catholic Church. Lots of women called Barbara would be dropping round home made sandwiches.

My dad wouldn't do very much. His instincts for retribution haven't been what they were since we had him cremated.

Dunno what exactly he would've done- but the phrase "Ere. Wot you fackin doin'?" would be in there somewhere. Probably directed at me. And he was always good for smacking someone as long as he could reach. He was not a tall man.

Fuck all. He just leave me there. He wouldnt even pay £1 ransom.

DD's dad would do nothing but tell everyone for the sympathy.

I OTOH would be ripping heads off.

Mine would call my ex-military uncle and send him in to deal with the practicalities, and be waiting for us with an epic curry and a bottle of wine when we got back !

My dad would phone dh - he's a copper and therefore qualified to give advice on all manner of things....last night it was clutches for his car. Cameras last week and before that it was car insurance.
So I think dh would have to let it over and deal with it. By the time my dad had fired up his computer and "switched the Internet on" I'd be home...

My dad would be very organised and sensible. He would contact the police but my mum would fret about a police car being at their house because "what will the neighbours think?". My mum would be very put out by my inconsiderate kidnapping and would delegate my rescue to my dp.

I got knocked off my motorbike years ago and the police turned up at our house to let her know I'd been taken to hospital. She rang my boyfriend and asked him to go and see if I was ok as she was putting her food shopping away and needed to cook dinner!!

My Dad is palliative and bedridden now but he would still be able to make several pivotal phone calls to various well-placed connections which would ultimately result in a Blackhawk helicopter mission-style rescue with Navy Seals and black ops. Obama, Cameron and Hollande would be briefed. Then the mission would be wiped and never again appear in even the most highly classified files.

Actually that would have been his approach before the cancer too so no real change there.

Well my Dad would give any Parisian sex traffickers a short sharp shock with his walking stick. That'd learn em.

My Father would be very angry at me, blame me for worrying my Mother, ring in sick at work and head to Lyme Regis for a well deserved holiday from all the stress. Secretly hoping i would die or never be seen or heard from again.

Mother would also blame me and worry what her family and neighbours would think of her.

My dad would forget that he's no longer 25 and move heaven and earth to rescue me. He'd end up making friends with the kidnappers though and succeed in showing them the error of their ways. They'd end up seeing him as a father figure and come to him for advice for years to come.

My mum would expend the same amount of energy trying to keep it from family, friends and the neighbours.

My dad is a total hero.

My dad would go all MacGyver. He'd go out to the garage and fashion some sort of complicated weapon / device out of a Black and Decker sander, some copper pipe, three rawl plugs and a bit of old shelving.

DSF has no problem with foreigners, other than copying their accent while speaking English.
There would definitely be a DSF organised reunion via FB group on the anniversary of my rescue. It would be on the news and everything.
By this time Mum and I would both be sighing.
(And they wonder why I went abroad to get married)

My father would be the same fellorick

I'm also thrilled to see someone else DPs use The Google :o

Also I'm agog that Paris has sex traffickers- who knew?

My SF would mobilise the family, start a media campaign, set out en France complete with Daily Mail Sadface pics of DH and the DC

Mine would love a DM sad face/ rant about foreigners story. (Not the French though, he likes them).

My dad died in 1998 - very quiet man but had an immense temper and brought up in the country so was very skilled with a rifle - Huntin' fishin' shootin' bloke who could manage in an apocalypse I suspect.

A bloke once tried it on with my mum in a pub and dad threw the bloke across three tables to the other side. He also went round "to have words" with parents of a girl who bullied me.....she was incredibly apologetic and friendly afterwards.

Oh and he built nuclear shelters in the 60s!

My dad would sob to anyone and everyone all about this terrible thing that had happened to him, get as much sympathy and attention for himself as possible, tell everyone how impossibly hard it was for him to cope with this on top of all his other problems. He would be in heaven to have all the attention and sympathy.
He would not do anything at all to try to save me and any attempt by anyone to make me central to it would immediately be reminded that actually it is far harder for him than it is for me.

He would stay at home, worrying.

Loving "The Google"

Goodness.

My dad would hear nothing about it. My mum would have got the call and would immediately decide not to tell the family, to save them from Worry. Also, outsiders could obviously not be told because of What They Might Think.

Instead, she would fretfully watch the news, consult The Google, consider writing a letter to the labour party but would give up after being unable to think of a nicer way to say sex traffickers.

In the end, it would occur to her to phone BIL, who has tattoos and a very shady past (threw a punch in a bar brawl once) and possible a friend of the family whose brothers are Undesireables (tattoos and piercings, and one with an unsuitable girlfriend) to go down there and sort it out.

My dad, in the meantime, would be watching Bargain Hunt and Cash in the Attic, dong his crosswords and having a nap, blissfully ignorant which is good, because of his heart, you know.

Once rescued (probably by myself) we'd never talk of it again, especially nt in front of dad because of, you know, his heart.

My SF would mobilise the family, start a media campaign, set out en France complete with Daily Mail Sadface pics of DH and the DC.
Then when they found me, he'd be all blasé and nae bother (he adopts accents when travelling) and probably buy me an extravagant gift.
My mother would sigh. Repeatedly.

My dad would probably head to Paris with his flat cap on, and maybe make some phone calls. I think I'd be lost forever it is was up to him to rescue me bless him.

Dh however is Mr Jujitsu slash Muay Thai. He would kimura his way around Paris, throwing in arm bars left and right whilst at the same time trying to look graceful

My Dad would wonder why I had gone to France in the first place, since its full of forriners. He would explain calmly that if I had gone to Southend, this would not have happened.

He would not come and rescue me, as this would involve leaving the county of Essex, something he hasn't done since circa 1996.

My dad would check the John Lewis and Which websites to see if the kidnappers were the best value for money.

He would then pay them (over the phone, never online), insisting it was his turn (even though he had paid the last 3 times) a la Mrs Doyle and her friend when they visit The Mainland in Father Ted.

He would sit down with a piece of cake and totally forget to mention it to mention my mother, while reminiscing in great detail about stuff that happened years ago. He might remember when he rang me to tell me all about it and I didn't answer

He would be really, really happy to see me again though. And the only thing he has (or ever had) in common with Liam Neeson is that they're both Irish