Making a Meal of It5

I started whining that I didn’t like salad. Mum shot back: “I don’t care whether you like it or not, child – you will do as you are told and eat it. I won’t tell you again!” For a few minutes, I just sat there sulking, pushing my food around on my plate. Finally, I looked up again and told Mum I didn’t want any more. That was it – she got up from the dinner table and grabbed me by the arm, she then ordered me to bend over the kitchen table. I started crying but obeyed. I was filled with dread as I heard Mum take off her belt. Then the scolding started.