Lay the offender on her tum, Then smack her hard across the bum, She will cry and implore Not to be given anymore, But this is what you bought me for, So make that bottom red and sore. When I had been naughty, Mum would take me to her bedroom, where the paddle was kept in a drawer. I was always spanked privately, to her credit. The paddle would come out and then Mum would get me prepared. Then came an unusual part of the ritual. Mum would show me the paddle, and I would have to read out the rhyme, usually by now very tearfully and between sobs. Then Mum would say something like: “So that’s what’s going to have to happen, isn’t it?” Then she would pat her knee and I would have to go over.

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