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As a lad who grew up in the early 1960s in Stoke-on-Trent, England, I was no stranger to the odd swipe across the face or backside.
However, one of the most memorable and embarrassing experiences happened courtesy of a Lady, (if you can call her that,) called Mrs Bigwither. A person who really did not like boys very much!
My parents had split up and I was fostered out to a lady called Mrs. Bigwither—Beverley to her friends.
She had lots of interfering busy body friends who could never keep their opinions to themselves. They were always in our house drinking tea or she was round theirs.
It was on a rough council estate and everyone knew everyone.
Mrs. Bigwither was a very strict woman who shouted a lot. She also had another boy who was about three years younger than me and we both had our share of smacks.
The day in question, I was on my way home from school when I wandered onto the building site near our home looking for pop bottles to return to the shops for money.
The foreman of the site shouted after me. I started to run for it when I slipped into a load of mud and got covered.
The foreman got hold of my arm and marched me to my house.
Mrs. Bigwither opened the door and I could see she was mad as I had on my school uniform and it was covered in mud.
She apologized to the foreman and he left, after telling her that next time it would be the police.
She grabbed me by my ear and pulled me into the kitchen and then gave me two or three good swipes across the face and head.
I then noticed that two of her friends were sitting there drinking tea.
She was now really enraged and was shouting and smacking me. I heard one of her friends say: “If he was mine, he wouldn’t sit down for a week, his bottom would be that sore.”
I think that comment spurred her on; she now seemed to be stronger than before.
She then held me under her left arm and smacked my bottom for all it was worth.
I was still stood facing her friends at this point.
After she finished with my bottom, she then gave me another couple across the face and ordered me to stand in the corner with my hands on my head.
It goes without saying, I never dared to go on that building site again.
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