My dad was a very extreme born again christian who was quite a piece of work. He had been treated like dirt when he was younger, so he felt the need to do that to everyone else: me, my sister, his workers, the police, the psychologists, etc.
Well, you can imagine how much fun this was for me. Luckily he didn't live with my mother and I, and half the time he was here my mother was here so he couldn't pull anything. I still remember a wonderful winter day when he ordered me to throw away some trash without boots on, hit me and beat me when I complained about my feet freezing, and then when I was halfway done putting away the trash he beat me horribly for... not putting on my boots before i put away the trash. You see, apparently the beating that he gave me when I begged him to let me put on my boots was actually him telling me to put on my boots while he hammered on me. who would have thought? What fun.
Luckily he developed extreme lung problems due to smoking. He lives in a cheap apartment now, and in his condition he never bothers me anymore (though technically he stopped bothering me when I was 13 due to the fact that I bought a bloodthirsty dog that attacked him on sight. I love my dog).
So, I side with the opinion that mothers rule baby. Woot woot to maternal instinct and the ability of females to be kick a## parents.