We used to live on a farm. My parents would commute to the city to conduct business in their real estate practice. After one of my brothers was born, my mother stayed home and my father went out to work. He would often be gone late and get back when the kids were in bed and it was sometimes solely up to my mother to discipline. My older brother was always getting in to trouble. While my dad would sit and talk us kids and make us never want to do that thing again (I think it was mindgames...or maybe programming?) my mother would take out the wooden spoon. I never got the wooden spoon, but my older brother got it so many times, I can't even remember what he did wrong.
One time, my brother did something REALLY bad. And we all followed. So my mother had us sit on the couch and she was going to give us the wooden spoon one at a time. My brother leaned over and she gave him a wack on the bottom. He looked at us and cracked a smile. Then a bigger smile. Then a toothy grin. Then he opened his mouth and laughed silently. He was trying so hard to hold it in. Nothing is worse than an angry woman who has just been laughed at. He was shaking a bit, so my mother stopped and looked at him. When she found out he was laughing, she wacked him a good hard one. The spoon broke, so she grabbed another one. That one broke too. She gave up. She came back later and read us a story.
She laughs about it to this day. That was the day she decided to not to use the wooden spoon anymore. I don't remember ever getting a spanking. I was probably a good little angel...ha ha ha, yeah right ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment