Dad deployed the belt. Twice in my life. In retrospect, I deserved both. With Mom, it was go select a switch...Heck by the time she swatted me, I was already skeered by having to make a selection that wouldn't piss her off worse....Very clever ol Mom was...
Hell, in our neighborhood you could get a good wooping from any parent that caught you misbehaving. Mom's favorite was also spoons. Once made the mistake of trying to hide them. Sorta backfired(backside was sort of scorched)! The shoe from Pop was the worst.
omg, my mom those old wire type fly swatters. the swatter part stung like hell and the wire part hurt even worse, especially on bare legs. sometimes they came apart she was going at it so hard, lol. then it really got scary because we didn't know what she'd grab to finish the job.
Rubber spatula. Little Sister and I called it "the rapper in the mouther." It stung like Hell on the backside and was never used on our mouths ... but the threat remained.
Dad was a traditionalist, a sturdy leather belt. Mix in an axe handle, a car once, you know whatever left an impression.
Mom wanted to make you hurt. My brother and I were beat by everything in the kitchen except the Kitchen-aid, because that was expensive.
During a house remodel Mom found a piece of oak trim that was about 3 foot long, 2 1/2 inches wide and 3/8 thick. Nothing compared to that chunk of wood being swung by a crazy-assed menopausal female.
It left a line of blisters where ever it was applied. I would take a willow switch any day over that.
One of the beauty shop's hairbrushes was the weapon of choice for mom - the traditional 'go cut your own switch' was grandmom's - and don't come back with a wimpy one either. I had to test that once and only once.
Oh I would have to say Mel-Mac dishes, and ashtrays were a favorite. My brother and I got to be real good at dodging flying dinner plates... Of course who can remember the dance of the swat, trying to get mom or dad dizzy by running around in circles while being held... I had the idea of stuffing my backsides with National Geographic magazines to blunt the blow... I would trade a hundred spankings for them to be here...
My Mom would take the wood slat out of the bottom of the shades. It hurt like hell on the back of the legs. She later said that she regretted that she ever did that and if she had to raise us again she wouldn't hit us. I told her that was a mistake and she should have hit me more. Deserved all I got and then some by a mile.
Jeeze...let me count the ways...leather belt (buckle first for special occasions), spoons, chanklas (flip-flops), sagebrush branch, pine branch, belts, fly swatters, belts, Grandma once chased me with a rolling pin (my youngest uncle and I went at it and broke her stove), pretty much anything within reach. Grandma used to throw kitchen knives at my uncles. I would give almost anything to have them chase me around the house or yard again.
14 comments:
Dad deployed the belt. Twice in my life. In retrospect, I deserved both. With Mom, it was go select a switch...Heck by the time she swatted me, I was already skeered by having to make a selection that wouldn't piss her off worse....Very clever ol Mom was...
Hell, in our neighborhood you could get a good wooping from any parent that caught you misbehaving. Mom's favorite was also spoons. Once made the mistake of trying to hide them. Sorta backfired(backside was sort of scorched)! The shoe from Pop was the worst.
omg, my mom those old wire type fly swatters. the swatter part stung like hell and the wire part hurt even worse, especially on bare legs. sometimes they came apart she was going at it so hard, lol. then it really got scary because we didn't know what she'd grab to finish the job.
Razor strop, plug end of a power cord, etc.
Rubber spatula.
Little Sister and I called it "the rapper in the mouther."
It stung like Hell on the backside and was never used on our mouths ... but the threat remained.
Dad was a traditionalist, a sturdy leather belt. Mix in an axe handle, a car once, you know whatever left an impression.
Mom wanted to make you hurt. My brother and I were beat by everything in the kitchen except the Kitchen-aid, because that was expensive.
During a house remodel Mom found a piece of oak trim that was about 3 foot long, 2 1/2 inches wide and 3/8 thick. Nothing compared to that chunk of wood being swung by a crazy-assed menopausal female.
It left a line of blisters where ever it was applied. I would take a willow switch any day over that.
Roger
One of the beauty shop's hairbrushes was the weapon of choice for mom - the traditional 'go cut your own switch' was grandmom's - and don't come back with a wimpy one either. I had to test that once and only once.
Rich
Section of Hot wheels track
Oh I would have to say Mel-Mac dishes, and ashtrays were a favorite. My brother and I got to be real good at dodging flying dinner plates... Of course who can remember the dance of the swat, trying to get mom or dad dizzy by running around in circles while being held... I had the idea of stuffing my backsides with National Geographic magazines to blunt the blow... I would trade a hundred spankings for them to be here...
Oh God, I forgot about the Hot Wheels tracks.
Or the wooden yardstick. I got that so many times, she broke it on me. I deserved every damned one of them.
My Mom would take the wood slat out of the bottom of the shades. It hurt like hell on the back of the legs. She later said that she regretted that she ever did that and if she had to raise us again she wouldn't hit us. I told her that was a mistake and she should have hit me more. Deserved all I got and then some by a mile.
Jeeze...let me count the ways...leather belt (buckle first for special occasions), spoons, chanklas (flip-flops), sagebrush branch, pine branch, belts, fly swatters, belts, Grandma once chased me with a rolling pin (my youngest uncle and I went at it and broke her stove), pretty much anything within reach. Grandma used to throw kitchen knives at my uncles. I would give almost anything to have them chase me around the house or yard again.
Oak yardstick. I was the second generation to experience it. By the time it got to me, all the numbers had been worn off.
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