Beating a child today is much different than child beatings many years ago.
I can only speak of beatings I received from 1974-1994. Everything else is speculation and stories I have heard.
I remember the beating I received as a child. It was honestly only one. It was quick and to the point. Although my Dad was mostly a peaceful creature back in the day, when you pissed this hairy Italian off it was time to hide in the medicine cabinet or else.
My brothers, sister and I would drive my mom crazy all day. She would threaten us with the “wooden spoon” and daily phrases like “wait until your father comes home”. We all laughed.
Until one day this man actually came home. I’ll never forget that moment my dad walked into the house. He was dressed in his coffee stained white tee shirt, back-up cigarettes in both ears, construction boots covered in horse manure, black curly pubic hair protruding out off the back of his v-neck and a fake leather belt six sizes to small which would eventually become the weapon of choice to beat the piss out of us.
Back then there was no cell phones, no text messages or warnings. Our ringtone was my Dads broken down work truck with three wheels and a muffler scraping on the pavement as he pulled into the driveway.
It was beat first ask questions later.
My mother with all of her threats still did not want to see her children pummeled. It was too late. My dad took 37 1/2 minutes and smoked a pack of Viceroys trying to yank his Mustang belt off as he ate too much pasta the night before but he finally managed.
We lined up in a single file in front of our extremely out of tune broken cigarette ash stained piano and pulled our flannel plaid pajamas down and exposed our white butts and prepared for our beatings. My brother Jefferey started to cry like that “Cindy Lou Hoo” chick from Hooville as that Grinch stole her Christmas. So naturally he was beaten first. The rest of us took our licks like champs. Even my little sister was beat down like a butternut squash at Thanksgiving Dinner.
After that, we were never beat again. It was a one time deal. I like to think all the stress of my Dads current employment status of selling broken down vacuum cleaners door to door in Spring Valley, NY after clearing .87 cents per week after taxes had something to do with it. I understood.
Make no mistake. My Dad is a great man. He just had an off week and if Jefferey didn’t cry like the daughter of Mommy Dearest getting whacked with a wire hanger we probably could have talked our way out of it.
Today I have my own kids. A beating is very hard to come by. I proceed to threaten to no satisfaction.
The other day my boys were throwing chicken nuggets at each other and I said in my toughest voice ” cut the crap guys or I’m gonna spank you.” They googled the word “spank”, laughed at me and said “go ahead Dad”, spank us. Our lawyer is on standby.
They had their Instagram, Musically, Snapchat and any other social media account ready to film my ass smacking the crap out of them. Next thing you know some Hilary Clinton looking specimen with a dark blue suit and a mullet would be at my door looking to lock me up. I thought better of the situation and refrained.
As soon as Hilary left, I beat them with the only thing I could. Their cellphone. That is the confiscation of it. These two started to cry just like Jefferey did so many years ago.
And that’s how we beat our children today. Take away their precious social media. The phones, the YouTube & Facebook. Don’t get me wrong. We need to knock them around a bit to keep them honest. Just be smart about it!
I wonder if they would prefer a quick whack to the ass cheek??? Hmmm
I would love to hear how the rest of you were beat as kids and how you currently beat your children!!