With her other hand she pushed the tiny bar of soap into my mouth in a well-practiced motion.
Instantly, the horrible taste of the soap filled my mouth as more tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Now chew it all!” she shouted at me, giving my hair a tug to emphasize her point.
As I chewed the horrible little bar, the terrible taste of the soap intensified.
Several times I almost gagged as I chewed the soap up into smaller and smaller pieces.
When my Mother was satisfied that the bar had been thoroughly chewed, she picked up the soapy washcloth and began shoving it into my mouth, almost like a gag.
The effect greatly intensified the putrid taste of the soap.
“Now start counting slowly, my dear!” she said, and in very muffled tones I started counting from one to 100.
As I counted, I drooled bubbles down my cheek .