The Descending Thunderhand of Death

When I was a child, I was spanked.*

Puddin' and I aren't the only siblings in our family. There are actually 5 of us: Goosey, Boy-o, Puddin', Dolly, and Twinkie. Boy-o is only two years younger than me, so we are very close. We did everything together. We played together. We went to church together. We got chicken pox together.

We got in trouble together. And when we got in a certain amount of trouble (such as not going to bed for the 4th time that night -- a story for another post!), we'd get spanked.

Dad is kind of a big man, he's kind of a tall man; he's kind of a big, tall man! (Family joke). He's 6'1" with strong hands the size of Moby Dick (the book, not the whale). When Boy-o and I were small children and got spanked, it was a BIG DEAL. When a spanking was threatened, we shaped up FAST in fear of the Descending Thunderhand of Death. 

Then Puddin' came along. She also got in trouble. It came naturally to her. One time she reduced a babysitter to tears by cleverly hiding between the pillows in the parent's bed. She lay there, giggling softly to herself, thrilled that the desperate teenager couldn't find her and was certain she was going to go to jail for losing one of the children. 

Puddin' also got spanked. Same Dad, same spankings, same Descending Thunderhand of Death.

Did she cry? Did she sob and apologize and decide she was going to be good next time so she could avoid the spanking? Hahaha no.

She laughed. She got spanked the same spanking we got, and she LAUGHED. Like she was being tickled. And sometimes she'd run away then turn around and say, "That didn't hurt!" Boy-o and I wondered what sort of demon child had joined our family.

Not to say that all her punishments were so delightful for her. I remember one particular instance when she was about 10 years old when she had done something rotten and was sent up to her room. (I asked Mom what Puddin' had done that time, and she said, "Who knows!  She got in trouble for tons of stuff. Thank heavens for mother amnesia!")

Anyway, Puddin' slept on the top bunk, and she responded to her banishment by laying on her back and kicking the wall with her heels. We were downstairs, listening to her little tantrum.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. CRUNCH. 

👀

Silence.

Puddin' had kicked a hole in the wall. I think I remember running up to see what that noise was, to catch her arranging her pillows against the wall in an attempt to hide it, hehe.

Have you guys heard about the Mother's Curse? Well, the curse works, and Puddin' was blessed with her four little mini-puddin's. This is a mild example, I'll tell more stories in future posts, but this just happened the other day. Apparently Deedle kept playing with legos instead of getting ready for school, so he got yelled at and shoved out the door to go catch the bus, and he obeyed -- technically.

Enjoy!

If you're a parent, do you suffer from the curse? Tell us your stories!

-Goosey

*Now, I'd like to clarify a couple of points about this:

1. I was a child in the 80's, and, back then, spanking was still a generally acceptable parenting behavior.
2. I was only spanked on the bottom (when my hands weren't in the way), and only by my daddy's hand -- except when daddy wasn't home and mom had to use the wooden spoon, because if she tried to spank us with her hand, she'd break a blood vessel. No actual damage ever done.