In the early 1960s, life was quite different. Families were very close, and discipline was more hands-on.
This is a story from my childhood, a time that shaped who I am today.
In the early 1960s, my mother had to move out of town for work, so it was decided that I would stay with my aunt.
My aunt was in her 40s but still very young looking, often wearing semi-modern clothing.
Although her appearance was modern, her attitudes to discipline were completely old-fashioned.
She championed smacked bottoms for misbehavior and disobedience of any kind, having been raised this way herself.
I had been spanked by my mother before, but nothing like what was to come.
After living with my aunt for about ten days, I was late for dinner.
She was visibly upset, her stern expression casting a shadow over the dinner table.
I apologized, but she wasn’t appeased. After dinner, she told me to go to the bathroom, get washed and ready for bed, and then come straight to her room.
As I headed to the bathroom, my mind raced.
What was going to happen?
The anticipation and dread were almost unbearable.
I took my time washing my hands and face and getting ready for bed, hoping to delay the inevitable.
But eventually, I had to face it.
I dried off and walked towards my aunt’s room.
I bathed with great trepidation
but knew I could only delay the inevitable.
I dried off and walked slowly to my aunt’s bedroom.
When I arrived, she was seated on her vanity chair With a menacing, flexible plastic paddle in her hand. It was long, with holes drilled into it, designed to sting more. My heart pounded in fear at the sight of it.
My aunt called me over and gave me a lecture on my behavior.
After about five minutes, she laid me over her lap, placed her arm around my waist, and began paddling me with a flexible plastic paddle.
The sharp sting of each strike sent waves of searing pain through my body, and the sound of the paddle echoed like thunder in the room.
I felt a mix of shame, regret, and helplessness with each swat, as tears welled up in my eyes and my body trembled with each blow.
No matter how much I squirmed, I was subjected to the stinging paddle until I tearfully counted twenty licks.
By the time my aunt told me to stand in the corner, I was beet red and swearing my eternal apologies.
After fifteen minutes, she called me from the corner.
She then hugged and kissed me, telling me she was only trying to keep me on the right path and loved me.
I was then allowed to go to bed.
I did not sit comfortably for several days.
