My mother released me from under her arm but kept a firm grip on my wrist. She looked me in the eyes and said: “Misbehave again, and you will get a smacked bottom! I don’t care where we are!”
I continued to cry as we walked around the store, my mother now having a firm grip on my hand so I wouldn’t be able to grab anything further off the shelves. I remember the other shoppers, so much taller than me, looking down at my red and sulking face, while my free hand was behind me rubbing my bottom. The grown-ups all smiled and laughed at this freshly-spanked little boy, which made my face go as red as my bottom with the embarrassment.