How did you know that…..
- Thread starter champdawg.sixpack
- Start date
As soon as I punched my older brother in the face and broke his glasses
there was usually an advanced airstrike envolving boots, shoes, and profanity prior to the very brief ground war.
The foreshadowing. “Just wait until we get home”.
When I heard the words, “Your choice. Mr. Brown or Mr. Black.”
All my dad did was have to grab his belt at the buckle and I would pop to attention. I guess I was dumb or something because I got a lot of having to go the bathroom and get the belt.
1) the sound of a belt being quickly removed from belt loops
2) Dad would double the belt and snap it while he walked back to the room. (The TSUN belt celebration this year gave me small amounts of PTSD***) Small house….VERY EASILY heard.
3) Being homeschooled through the age of leather encouragement, if Mom said “your Dad’s coming home at lunch” that meant I was really in for it. He worked in Jackson, we lived in Cleary, not a quick trip.
2) Dad would double the belt and snap it while he walked back to the room. (The TSUN belt celebration this year gave me small amounts of PTSD***) Small house….VERY EASILY heard.
3) Being homeschooled through the age of leather encouragement, if Mom said “your Dad’s coming home at lunch” that meant I was really in for it. He worked in Jackson, we lived in Cleary, not a quick trip.
Belt snaps were obligatory psychological warfare.
Full, proper, legal name, with perfect pronunciation at higher than normal volume.
When my presence was requested and Dad used my first, middle, and last name.
Gosh man, same here. My mom gave me all my beatings coming up. When I heard her open the door to my dad's closet, I knew it was about to get real.
I became proficient at gauging my Dad’s pissed level by pace and heaviness of his footsteps.
Isn’t the obligatory belt snap just like the pre grill tong click? It’s unavoidable.
The way dad pulled the car over. You could feel it in change of momentum
My dad never whipped me but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have his ways that would pass for child abuse today. I can remember as a kid sitting in the floor one day playing with my little plastic army men. I would stick their little plastic rifles in a nearby electric wall socket. He probably told me 2-3 times not to and of course a few minutes later I was back at it. He was one of those guys who kept a little flat head screwdriver clipped in his shirt pocket. He just handed me the screwdriver without a word and walked away. The best lessons are the ones you figure out for yourself. I’m still scared of electricity to this day and was scared of him till he died.
Youngest of 3, my parents admit I had it a lot easier than my oldest brother. My dad had to be pretty pissed off to break out the belt. Didn’t get many.
I remember the last one I ever got was 3rd or 4th grade. I’d put off doing a big homework project till the last night. He literally broke a wooden yardstick over my *** and busted a hole in my bedroom door. I think he felt pretty bad about it and probably why it was the last he ever gave any of us.
I remember the last one I ever got was 3rd or 4th grade. I’d put off doing a big homework project till the last night. He literally broke a wooden yardstick over my *** and busted a hole in my bedroom door. I think he felt pretty bad about it and probably why it was the last he ever gave any of us.
I don’t know what that bush was growing just off my grandmothers back porch but you better get a good switch the first time and it better not be off the front and leave a gap in the bush.
This. I usually got at least one warning, but when the car started pulling over I knew I was in some big trouble. And passers by were about to watch me get my arse whipped.
The worst mistake I made was bringing back a bad switch. When mom had to get one to replace mine, I almost died that day.
"Just wait til your father gets home...."
The worst spanking I ever got was when I knew it was coming and I did the thing that you do not do. I ran. Big mistake.
My mother was adamantly against using that phrase, convinced she could just as easily discipline us herself, instead she'd finish with "we'll talk about this as a family tonight." Then one day I made the mistake of laughing at her attempt to spank me.
Needless to say, I paid for that one... with interest.
Was the pre-whipping belt snap the original pre-shitting?
My mom was a teacher so she was home with me all summer. She would whip me with a stick off of a privet hedge bush until she left red marks and I was the one who had to go get the switch. Eventually I got too big for that and would start crying just to make her quit so I could go back out to play. If I were in trouble for not doing something she asked me to do like clean my room, go work in the garden or whatever, it would be reported to daddy as soon as he got home. He was right at 6' and 200lbs but had a voice like James Earl Jones. Him standing up from his easy chair while unbuckling his belt and bellowing in that deep voice "Boy! Did mama tell you to clean your room?" was enough to make me pee on myself and the room was cleaned in 5 minutes. He never did have to whip me.
Neither of my parents ever laid a hand on me growing up. But, they used masterful psychological warfare methods on me to shame me into crying endlessly. I would get told how disappointed they were in me, how I had really let them down, they were embarrassed by my actions and I had better not ever do it again, etc etc etc. I think I would have rather been beaten than to get the disappointment lecture and then a big hug then sent to my room to "think about it and learn from it".
Damn, I didn't know there was an either/or option for disciplining children.
I got both barrels; disappointment lectures, that's not how we do things in this family, public shaming, forced apologies, etc. AND corporal punishment.
In their defense, I totally earned every bit of it.
My dad occasionally made me and my brothers kiss. On the lips. To end big fights. While he held a belt.
I have no idea how many swats I’d take before capitulating, but the last time that happened I got fed up and outlasted him. I looked him squarely in the eye and said I’d rather die than kiss that piece of crap.
I truly believe that punishment backfired. For me, it only intensified my anger. There is nothing, and I mean nothing you want to do less than kiss a MF you were trying to punch out just seconds earlier.
"Go on to the back."
This meant go to their bedroom and assume the position, bent over, hands on mattress.
"If you can't shape up when *I* talk, we can try belt talk."
This was generally shorted to the threat, "Do we need some belt talk?" to defuse a fight between me and my brother.
It generally took little more than a look and snapped fingers to get us straightened out. Like the Fonz -- he could control a LOT of things by snapping those fingers. It meant "get out of my chair" or "I am going to beat you within an inch of your life if you tryt that again" and a million other things.
This meant go to their bedroom and assume the position, bent over, hands on mattress.
"If you can't shape up when *I* talk, we can try belt talk."
This was generally shorted to the threat, "Do we need some belt talk?" to defuse a fight between me and my brother.
It generally took little more than a look and snapped fingers to get us straightened out. Like the Fonz -- he could control a LOT of things by snapping those fingers. It meant "get out of my chair" or "I am going to beat you within an inch of your life if you tryt that again" and a million other things.
When he told me “if I have to tell you again, it will be the last time I tell you.”
Knew we were in business after that.
My dad and mom whipped me and I loved them even more for it as I got older.
More kids need it today.
My parents were very good at setting expectations and letting me know the consequences ahead of time. THEY ALWAYS FOLLOWED THROUGH!
When my dad would say "wait until we get home", I'd be an angel until we got home. I remember having that slight glimmer of hope that I'd either be pardoned or he'd forget...neither ever happened!
This is incredible. I envisioned my dad trying to make me kiss my brother to make up. That wouldn't have gone well for me, in the end. Thank God he never thought of that - mine went straight to the belt if the open hand didn't do the trick.
When my sister started lying on me, Mommy, he tried to hit me. Then me, if I tried to hit her I would’ve hit her. Then my dad, bend your *** over and shut up!!
My dad worked out of town and my mom would say this on a Tuesday before he got home on a Thursday and I had to live in anxious fear of that a** whipping for 2 days.