Dad was usually all bluster — “Don’t make me come up there!” as my sister and I laughed it off. He also traveled a lot on business, so Mom was stuck with the discipline. And I was a handful.
She used to beat my ass with a wooden hairbrush. [Reply]
It really depends on what I had done.
Mom anything from a stern talking to a wooden spoon on whatever part of the body she could reach. I found out the hard way if I ran she would smack me in the back of the head or across the shoulders.
Dad was anything from a switch which I had to cut and it better not be big or flimsy. It had to be just right or you had to go get another one to being punched and kicked once I was down. I spent a year in a partial body cast from having my sternum broke by him. I barely speak to him even now some 37 years later. [Reply]
Dad's go-to was a paddle he made out of a 2×4, with an evil face drawn on, and a tally for me and my sister. First one to 5 owed him money for his services.
Also, we had to hold absolutely still and take a direct shot. If he missed or wasn't satisfied, it didn't count.
He was an opportunist, though. Whatever was handy, be it a hot wheels track, belt, hand, air compressor hose, my own BB gun (don't shoot what you're not supposed to), he was always ready.
Mom tried, but just didn't have the upper body strength. [Reply]
My mom would slap us. It got to the point that it never hurt anymore. She figured that out and would say “wait till your dad gets home”.
We’d wait and hear him pull up. We’d go hide somewhere but could hear that familiar sound of a belt going through belt loops at 50 MPH. Then he’d whip our asses with it. Never bare ass. We learned our lesson pretty fast. [Reply]
I didn’t ever get the belt. Probably bc my parents didn’t have to use it.
If I ****ed up, I had to do manual labor around the house. Pick weeds, clean the house, fold all laundry, etc.
Brother and I ****ed up badly 1 time and we went to my dad’s friends farm in the country. Our entire weekend was spent doing manual labor. Pick up horse shit, clean shit out of the chicken coup, etc.
Basically I picked up shit from every animal 20 hours of that weekend in 90+ degree heat and missed hanging with friends.
Needless to say I didn’t **** up badly like that again [Reply]
Originally Posted by RunKC:
I didn’t ever get the belt. Probably bc my parents didn’t have to use it.
If I ****ed up, I had to do manual labor around the house. Pick weeds, clean the house, fold all laundry, etc.
Brother and I ****ed up badly 1 time and we went to my dad’s friends farm in the country. Our entire weekend was spent doing manual labor. Pick up horse shit, clean shit out of the chicken coup, etc.
Basically I picked up shit from every animal 20 hours of that weekend in 90+ degree heat and missed hanging with friends.
Needless to say I didn’t **** up badly like that again
My parents made me do stuff like that, like yard work stuff. I hated it. It's why to this day I hate my yard so much and pay other people do take care of it. But I can't help to think back upon this time and think, why did I do it? My parents didn't beat me, and if I was like nah bro, I'm not gonna do any of that. I'm good. What are they going to do not feed me? [Reply]
Originally Posted by srvy:
The worst whoopings I ever got was in Jr HS and HS. There was corporal punishment back then. It seemed all the male teachers had specialized paddles behind deck on wall or in office. The HS crafts reach had one he made out of 3/8" plastic with holes drilled in it it hurt and the assistant principal was no slouch with a wooden one. I will always remember coach Eisley first day of sophomore HS gym class we are all in the locker room and he is giving us some instructions. I was yakking and cutting up with a couple pals as he slowly eased over near me. Boom it was like the lights were turned off then on. He took back of his hand knuckles to front top my head and damn near knocked me out raised a knot. I was quiet as a tit mouse when coach was speaking after that.
No Lie. I got a swat from my PE teacher who played minor league baseball for the Twins...his tool of choice was a bat with one side sawed flat. He went for the bleachers with my ass one day for something I didn't do.
The following year he needed me on the O-Line / D-Line and he was hyper competitive...so he apologized in front of everybody per my request. Really surprised me. [Reply]
Originally Posted by RedRaider56:
It was probably pretty close to this for me, as well. Maybe 13 when it stopped. I got my ass whipped with a belt when my Dad would punish me. I can remember welts on the back of my thighs or ass from his whippings.
The damn stripes and welts hurt for days on me, Dad got his point across. You learned after that, Don't do that shit again!...:-)
My problem was, I was always pushing the edge of the envelope on how far I, we could go before getting in trouble.
Originally Posted by srvy:
The worst whoopings I ever got was in Jr HS and HS. There was corporal punishment back then. It seemed all the male teachers had specialized paddles behind deck on wall or in office. The HS crafts reach had one he made out of 3/8" plastic with holes drilled in it it hurt and the assistant principal was no slouch with a wooden one. I will always remember coach Eisley first day of sophomore HS gym class we are all in the locker room and he is giving us some instructions. I was yakking and cutting up with a couple pals as he slowly eased over near me. Boom it was like the lights were turned off then on. He took back of his hand knuckles to front top my head and damn near knocked me out raised a knot. I was quiet as a tit mouse when coach was speaking after that.
7th and 8th grade BB coach, missing a lay up he would give us a swat on the ass with a wiffle ball bat and had to run a " HOT LAP ", all out or we got it again. Damn, it was like a NASCAR time trials in that gym.
Originally Posted by displacedinMN:
I never got paddled at school. I love telling my students that it was an option at one time.....and still should be. Kids always claim they would hit back...yeah...good luck.
We would have a lot less problems if that were the case today. It does not need to be used a lot...just once in a while.
Many got it at school and got it again at home.
Yep, been there and done that! One time as a Freshman in science class as the teacher went out of the room to the office a buddy behind me light the paper airplane I had in my hand as I was watching the door, just as I looked to throw it because of the WTF moment of a burning inferno, he walks in as I'm sending that bitch towards the window! Oops!, Gosh damn, he raised me up off the floor with that 2 handed swing wooden paddle with holes drilled in it. I'm 6'0, 160 lbs and I thought I grew up 2 inches that day. Of course, I got it worst when I got home, the worst butt whipping I ever got from my Dad by a switch! The next day my buddy got his, my Dad told them cause Dad said what ever you say, it "BETTER BE THE TRUTH!" He had his contact somehow on how if I lied about somethings.
Originally Posted by Chief Roundup:
It really depends on what I had done.
Mom anything from a stern talking to a wooden spoon on whatever part of the body she could reach. I found out the hard way if I ran she would smack me in the back of the head or across the shoulders.
Dad was anything from a switch which I had to cut and it better not be big or flimsy. It had to be just right or you had to go get another one to being punched and kicked once I was down. I spent a year in a partial body cast from having my sternum broke by him. I barely speak to him even now some 37 years later.
I'm sorry that this had to happen and come out, I admire you for handling it. That is tough. [Reply]
One of many chores I had around the house, with a single mother and a sickly brother was mowing the lawn in a timely fashion, or more importantly, when told to.
When after putting it off for the afternoon, mom called me in from playing neighborhood ball and presented me with a steak knife.
I spent the next hour cutting the lawn the hard way, when lesson was learned, and I could finish with our rotary push mower, old style.
Funny, just laughing about this with her last week. [Reply]
Originally Posted by fan4ever:
No Lie. I got a swat from my PE teacher who played minor league baseball for the Twins...his tool of choice was a bat with one side sawed flat. He went for the bleachers with my ass one day for something I didn't do.
The following year he needed me on the O-Line / D-Line and he was hyper competitive...so he apologized in front of everybody per my request. Really surprised me.
My mom only ever hit me once and that was with a metal spatula on the ass. My dad was forced to leave when I was 6 months old because he tried to suffocate me to stop me from crying. [Reply]
