Like all good things -lol!- the lecture finaly drew to a close!
Was it a relief?
Maybe!
Hard to tell!
My mind by that time would be spinning, my stomach would be in knots, my hands would be dabbing tears from my eyes, my knees would be quaking, and I would be trying desperately not to cause too much of a scene in front of my siblings, and certainly not in front of father, in case he determined I was ‘resisting’ a little to much!
Mother would stand, heavily, and smooth the front of her skirt down over her ample thighs. With a curt, “Come along, Margaret!”-
She took me firmly by the shoulder or arm, and we walked slowly out of the living room across the hall into the bathroom.
Mother always used the bathroom when we were younger, if we were due a smacked bottom.
I think she liked the idea of its closeness, and the privacy it gave her when she locked the door.
Although, as I will tell you in detail later, she would on occasion leave the door ajar, if she wanted an audience to really appreciate what a smacked botom was all about in our home!
In our later years, the lecture was the same, but we were then dispatched alone to our bedroom, via hers to pick up the strap or cane, to ‘prepare’.
That meant, after placing the strap or cane in the middle of my bed,
I would face the wall, bottom facing the door and await mother’s arrival!
But here I am describing a bathroom spanking.
I can still remember the awful ‘click’ that lock made, emphasising all was lost.