I imagined her watching TV with a glass of wine, not a care in the world, while I was getting my bum reddened for doing precisely nothing wrong.
The unfairness of the situation caused a wave of sorrow to consume me and I wailed loudly, just as mum painfully whacked the crease between my bum and thighs. “Oh, for goodness sake, Laura – I’ve not even properly started yet!” Mum snapped, clearly thinking my wailing was in response to the ongoing smacking.
Mum always liked to warm up our bums with her hand first, reasoning that it was less likely to bruise that way, although bruises often did still form nonetheless. I could feel the glow in my bum intensifying, as mum gave me a final few slaps with her hand before picking up the hairbrush.