Picture of mom and dad

Thanks for the wuppin's

Children are wonderful. I’ve been blessed many times – just never with children. It’s probably a good thing that I don’t have children. I firmly believe in discipline and with today’s politically correctness – I wouldn’t be – politically correct.

When I was growing up, discipline was firm and swift. My daddy never flinched if he had to use a belt on my behind. My grandma would have me go out and cut off my own switch from her “switchin’ bush” then promptly use it to give me a pair of “striped stockings.” And, my mom never hesitated to whop me if she thought I was sassin’ her.

From those experiences I don’t believe I’ve been warped, deranged, or psychologically harmed in any way. As a matter of fact, I believe I grew from them. I learned right from wrong – sometimes it may have taken two or three lessons – but I learned.

I’m no expert on child rearing; but I do believe that this is what’s wrong with today’s kids. A “time out” or sitting them in a corner for 30 minutes only teaches them to bide their time. A good licking teaches the lesson.

I remember running from my mom – one time. I think I was about 11 or 12 years old. It was so silly, and it would have been over immediately, if I had just taken the initial punishment. But no, not me. Momma was on crutches from a bad knee. She was hobbling around the kitchen and I was sitting up on the kitchen table. Momma said, “Get off the table.” I didn’t. She came at me to spat my leg, telling me again to get off the table. I jumped back when she swung at me and I ran away. She hobbled toward me and I made my getaway out the door. Then she got mad. She (on crutches) chased me around the house. Of course she couldn’t catch me. And I knew she was spitting mad.

I think I stayed outside for hours. Which really was a good thing – it gave her time to cool off. However, she had not forgotten. When I finally came in she was ready. She had the belt in her hand and NO CRUTCHES. She beat my rear for a good five minutes (I thought.) And every aim hit the mark. She had a hold of my arm and we just went in circles. Me – screaming and she – screaming at me.

When it was over she sent me to bed. Of course I was crying but, I could also hear her crying. She was so sad. She came in after about 30 minutes and hugged and kissed me. She told me she was so sorry. She looked at my legs to make sure I wasn’t hurt. And explained to me that if only I had just done what she had asked none of this would have happened.

I never ran from my momma again. I believe I was lucky to have only got a good whipping and sent to bed for my actions. I still got punished on occasion, I even got more whippings. But I learned that if you’ve done something wrong you don’t run from it. You stay and take the punishment – don’t make it worse – just take it.

I love my momma so much. The fact that she disciplined me when I needed it made me love her that much more. It showed me that she cared about me. She wanted me to be good, to make her proud but also she wanted me to be proud of myself. She wanted me to know that I understand the right and the wrong. I could be a good person throughout my lifetime. I am a good person – thanks to my mom, my dad and my grandma.