My Mother and Father were reasonable people who believed in their off spring being raised in the proper manner. We were well loved and they gave us everything that they could afford, but at the same time they showed us who was in charge.

I vividly recall one instance when I was in these formative years. We lived close by a small stream and we had been forbidden to play near it for obvious safety reasons.

One day I persuaded my younger brother to explore with me and led him down towards the forbidden stream. In the course of our playing he slipped and fell into the water. Not too serious, as only his legs went in, but he ran home crying.

My mother was furious with me for disobeying her orders and after drying off my little brother she took me across her knee and gave me a good hard smacking on my bottom.

I can still remember how much it hurt, not just my bottom, but my pride, as this was the one and only time that I ever had had my bottom smacked in front of someone else.

The second incident occured about five years later when I was in third year at secondary school.

One day my friend and I decided that a trip to the local shops one afternoon would be more fun than attending school.

As luck would have it someone recognised us and contacted the school. In these days there was only one punishment for truancy and next morning we found ourselves in the headmistress’s office.

The six strokes of the cane which me and my friend each received taught me a lesson I’ll never forget.

I held no grudges against my mother or the headmistress as I deserved what I got.