Jewelzz said; "A little fear doesn't hurt, it's when that 's all there is, fear."
My dad's favorite trick was to buy me a toy that was called a Bit-Bat (or something like that). It was a wooden paddle (about ping pong paddle size) with an elastic (rubber) band stapled to it and had a small normally red ball attached to it. The idea was to hit the ball with the paddle and then it would return to you and you'd hit it again - great fun!
Well, the rubber would always manage to break or come out from under the staple - thus the paddle was no good anymore!
Wantta bet?
My dad found a very ingenious use for the "broken paddles" - he'd say in a soft voice - "down to the cellar son". Once down there he'd say, "turn around, bend over and touch your toes - oh by the way, don't put your hand back there or this paddle might break your hand".
My first trip to the cellar put the fear of God in me and hurt like heck. With each trip to the cellar, the
fear lessened - but it still
hurt like heck - so Jewelzz is
incorrect - a little fear does hurt!
I can laugh about it now - but I use to hate having to bend over and touch my toes - man that was worse than the wooping - sorta like
helping your dad woop your a$$!
Yea, it was great - me and my dad sharing some really quality time together in the cellar! :huh:
Bottom line is - I lived through it and promised myself I would never treat my kids that way and I haven't. Sure they were disciplined in other ways - you know the really nasty things like grounded/no TV for a couple of days/and of course my favorite - no phone. Man that no phone one drives teenage girls nuts!