Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Cruel and Unusual Punishment: Part 2

My folks did (and probably still do, though it's been years since I've received the laying on of the hand) believe in spankings. Through my childhood they've tried many types of tools to assist in the discipline of their innocent children. My siblings and I, also used many different tools to protect our sensitive hiney's from becoming calloused and rough. We all know there is nothing more unattractive then two little red cheekies.

Of course there was the classic wooden spoon, I think my mom bought boxes of them wholesale because I know whenever one of those baby's broke a new one took it's place like magic. My dad was a fan of threatening with his belt. In truth I don't ever remember actually receiving a good old fashion whopping with dad's leather belt. But when we heard that soft leather start to slide through his belt loops, we ran as fast as our naughty little legs could go.
In turn, we kids, tried many different types of padding to soften the blows. At first we weren't very good at padding our rear ends, apparently a couch pillow gave me a ghetto booty that my folks knew didn't run in my blood. We tried odd shaped objects, books, socks, toilet paper and even out of desperation, our hands. Though, none of us were clever enough to think of putting on every pair of underwear that we owned (Aramie, you're so smart!). Sometimes, if we were really creative my dad would end up laughing at the toilet seat stuffed in the pants of the offendee and let the culprit go, but more likely than not, we didn't have enough of an imagination to make the old man laugh.

One particularly trying evening for my parents, we angels, wouldn't go to sleep. They asked nicely, asked not so nicely, told us to go to bed, and finally called us downstairs... Our cries of promises to go to bed fell on deaf ears as we were lined up and ordered to stand still while they came up with a really good punishment. After a short (too short) debate on the best way to "convince" us kids that it was bedtime, my folks decided that we would be receiving spankings (obviously they were tired since they didn't come up with anything more inventive than a little spanking). I underestimated my folks...
To make it a little more exciting, my folks decided that we kids would go outside and pick out our weapon of choice in which we would receive the needed incentive to go to sleep. I looked at my siblings in disbelief, they're eyes were wild with excitement, we were able to pick the stick, any stick we wanted! The pending punishment didn't look so daunting as we filed outside to the 20 acres of sweet options. I, being the oldest, took action and went forward before we lost the light. Who knows what horrible choice we would make if we couldn't clearly see the color and style of the said stick. I went to a favorite tree of mine with willow type branches. I loved this tree, when you swung the thin branch just the right way, it cracked like the bull whip Jim Craig used when he won the hearts of so many women in the Man from Snowy River. Yes, this would be the perfect stick for us. It was small, bendy, thin and made the most lovely sound. My brother, Marshall, on the other hand picked up a thick 2 ft long 2x4 and said it would be a better choice because is was thicker and would hurt less.
My folks had said that we needed to make the decision of which stick was going to be used as a group so a vote was in order. Captain and Logan were undecided and so Marshall and I had to politic to get their votes. Apparently, I should be a politician because I said if they picked my stick, it would hurt less because it was smaller (I lied). My persuasive powers and lies were convincing, I beat Marshall by a landslide. Like a champion bobsled team who had just one a gold medal, we skipped into the house with "the Stick." My dad took one look at "the Stick" and at that moment he knew that none of his kids were destined to be a doctor, lawyer, teacher or a scientist, he would be happy if he got a Burger King manager out of one of us. He asked if we were sure that this was "the Stick" that we wanted to use. We all nodded enthusiastically. Three times he asked us if we were sure, hoping that one of us would show the slightest signs of intelligent thought. But his hopes were dashed as he cracked the bull whip, once, twice, three and four times.



I let Marshall pick my stick now and I go to bed on time

5 comments:

gigi said...

As children my sisters and brother and I had to pick our switch! Not so much fun.

Cindy Judd said...

I remember being in a similar situation of having to pick the whipper of my choice. I thought I was being creative when I brought my dad a four inch long twig. Dad looked at me with sqinted eyes,red face, and through clinched teeth said "you had better get a decent stick or I'll get one". I pictured my dad up rooting one of our apricot trees and quick like a bunny ran and got a decent sized switch and decided humor was not the best way to go in this type of situation.

Amanda said...

I love to hear your stories. With all of the theories about how we should discipline our children, it's nice to hear that some people still believe in the good ol' fashion way.

gigi said...

I like the new look of your blog. Now a new post would be very nice! Thank you.

N & K Caulder said...

Hilarious! Actually, it's a punishment I make my middle school students do and it's one of the few that actually work. For some reason they will write those dumb sentences.