My pyjama bottoms pooled at my ankles but my legs weren’t long enough to properly reach the ground, and so I perched on my tiptoes, already starting to feel the strain in my calves after less than a minute of holding the pose. Meanwhile, my torso and head were resting flat on the couch cushion.
I had my arms at my sides but Mum instructed me to stretch them over my head, flat on the couch – presumably to prevent me trying to reach back during the main event, although she never actually gave a reason. She didn’t need to: she was in charge and we both knew it. Frankly, if she had asked me to do a handstand against the wall for the smacking then I would have done it unquestioningly.