Mum would come up with the slipper, after giving us a few minutes to think about what we had done, and administer it in the familiar fashion. While my brother and I rarely saw each other being spanked then, the sounds coming from the upstairs room left little to the imagination.
Mum stopped smacking us when we were about 11, but the threat of a ‘smack bottom’ persisted when we played up. I can remember one occasion when she threatened to get a cane for us, but she never did. We got the occasional smacking off dad (he generally just used his hand), but he worked away a great deal and so most of the household discipline landed literally in Mum’s lap.
Looking back, I remember those days with affection; the spankings did us a lot of good and they were always administered calmly and fairly. And in retrospect, I probably deserved every one!