Thinking about the ‘happy’ memories I have of my mother’s discipline sessions put me in mind of one particular one you might like to hear about.
I must have been 10 at the time.
Mother was sitting in the living room, me standing in front, head down, feet shuffling as she lectured me sternly.
I knew this was a precursor to that dreadful march to the bathroom!
Mother always smacked our bottoms in there (at least until we were teens when it was done in either her or our bedroom).
I think she liked the fact that it was close and the door could be locked, so we would be uninterrupted.
Anyway, as Mother was winding down the lecture, and I was steeling myself for the inevitable, clenching my bottom cheeks, under my white coton panties, sobbing a little, wondering just how bad a one I was due, the door bell went.
Now I should have scuttled quickly into the bathroom, as mother went to answer it, but for some reason I stood rooted to the spot in the living room.
I heard mother’s voices from the hall–“AH!… Mary… and Tommy too… come in” Oh no, it was our next door neighbours!!–Tommy (who attended the same class as me at school) and his mother! “Come on in!” said mother leading them into the living room.
I turned to face them, my face as red as my bottom was about to be, my heart pounding, my palms sweating. “H..h..hello Tommy…. h..h..hello Mrs Ogilvie!” I stammered. Mother always insisted we were polite, even in the most trying of circumstances!–lol! “Hello, Megan”, said Mrs Ogilvie, a warm smile on her face.
Tommy just kind of nodded, his face a trifle puzzled at my obvious discomfort.
“Sit down… sit down, and make yourself comfortable”, said mother “I won’t be long.
I have just something to discuss with Megan!” “Discuss”- wow!! that was a euphemism if ever I heard one!!-though I must admit I did not know then what a euphemism was-lol!!