Growing up in the 1960s, I was frequently over my mother’s lap getting the hairbrush on my bottom. I got in the habit of fooling around in school and not doing my work. The teacher sent a note home for my mother to sign but I was a good artist and I forged her signature.
A few weeks later, it was time for school to mail grade cards home and I kept looking for mine, as I was sure there would be trouble. After I got home from a friend’s one day, my mother called me into the living room. She had my grade card which had arrived by mail earlier in the day. She told me she had called my teacher because my grades and behaviour report was so bad. My teacher told her about the note and I was in real trouble for goofing off and for lying to my mother.
My mother talked with me calmly and told me how much she loved me but she wouldn’t tolerate lying or me not doing my best in school. She took me up to my bedroom and told me to wait for her.
After what seemed like forever, my mother came into my room with a towel and a bright red paddle with holes drilled in it. I started to cry just looking at the paddle, but my mother was firm. She said the paddle was the one her dad used on her and she had never expected to need it for me.
My mother put the towel down on my bed and told me to lay down on the towel. My feet were touching the ground as I lay bent over on the towel. mother set the paddle on my rear and told me she would be back. My mother returned a few minutes later with a bowl filled with water and a wash cloth.
She said she was sorry to have to do this, but lying was very serious and I needed a lesson to remember to tell the truth and to work hard. My mother sponged my rear with the wash cloth and gave me five incredibly hard swats right where my seat and legs met. I howled with pain and tried to get up. mother said if I got up before she was done she would start all over. From the tone in her voice, I knew she meant what she said, so I stayed in position despite the awful hurt.
After the five spanks, mother wet my rear again, and I got five more, just as hard as before. My bottom was really hurting, but mother wet my rear again, and gave me five more hard ones, right in the same place. I got a total of 25 in all, with mother stopping after each five to wet my seat again. I had bruises from the paddle for almost two weeks.
After the paddling, my mother hung the paddle inside my closet to remind me to tell the truth. She hugged me and told me how much she wanted me to be a good girl and to do my best. I did get the paddle with the holes on my wet rear again, but never as hard as that time. My mother sure knew how to teach me a lesson I wouldn’t forget.
