Mum had heard us and in she came to see what all the noise was about. We froze – just the presence of my mum had us silent and scared. “I can’t trust you at all, can I?” she said in a very angry voice. “I’ll be back.”
I knew what was coming and sure enough, mother soon re-entered the room carrying the large rubber-soled slipper she always kept in her wardrobe for the purpose of smacking my bottom.
I was first. I had bend over her maternal lap – with my bottom feeling exposed and defenceless. Whack! The first stroke landed on my right cheek. Whack! Then on the left, and so on. I got three strokes on each cheek and every stroke increased the sting in my posterior. By the last stroke, it was unbearable – I was crying like a baby.