12 thoughts on “How Many Times Do We Gotta Say It?”
Is that Mrs. Captain Obvious? Cuz she’s absolutely right.
It all started with people reading that stoopid Dr. Benjamin Spock’s book on raising kids. Add a Bleeding Heart attitude, and the obviously wrong “There’s no such thing as a bad kid” mentality, and… here we are.
Amen !
I cannot disagree.
Kids are like dogs. You gotta train’em or suffer the consequences when they get older. That training may incorporate corporal punishment or as that old maxim declares “Spare the rod, spoil the child”. The training should also include praise when they do something right.
She ain’t wrong…
My Mom was never one to threaten the old “Wait’ll your father gets home” nonsense, she dispensed justice on the spot.
Mine did too, and to underscore that painful lesson, dad would listen to mom, weigh the punishment then proceeded to whoop our ass a second time just to cement the lesson we maybe didn’t learn with the mom whooping. They relished tag teaming all six of their kids, especially my brother and me. The four girls didn’t escape unscathed, but were not as rambunctious and pig headed as us boys were(still am).
Yup, mine too. Dad told Mom he didn’t want to hear about it. She was to take care of it at the time of the infraction because he had suffered under the heavy hand of his father. It wasn’t until we were teenagers that he might step in over something serious, and we would get a ‘dressing down’.
My folks had a paddle hanging on the corner wall of the kitchen. It didn’t often get used, but when it did, you knew why and it HURT!
Same thing for the penguins in grade school. When you had to step back into the coat room, and that massive ruler came down on your palm, you knew why. The deterrent effect was huge.
My mom would hold your arm & whisper “Do you want me to embarrass you?”
Dad:
Strike one was a look(a mixture of disappointment, disgust, and disbelief).
Strike two was a firm “knock that shit off”
Strike three was “Go get my belt”
No arguments, no ifs, ands, or buts.
If you got sent for the belt, hanging on the door, you got the belt.
Mom:
Not quite,as consistent, but you always knew when you were crossing the line.
When you crossed it, it got dealt with, then and there. Mom was open minded about method of delivery, and quite skilled with the Belt, hairbrush, spatula, wooden spoon, or shoe.
Is that Mrs. Captain Obvious? Cuz she’s absolutely right.
It all started with people reading that stoopid Dr. Benjamin Spock’s book on raising kids. Add a Bleeding Heart attitude, and the obviously wrong “There’s no such thing as a bad kid” mentality, and… here we are.
Amen !
I cannot disagree.
Kids are like dogs. You gotta train’em or suffer the consequences when they get older. That training may incorporate corporal punishment or as that old maxim declares “Spare the rod, spoil the child”. The training should also include praise when they do something right.
She ain’t wrong…
My Mom was never one to threaten the old “Wait’ll your father gets home” nonsense, she dispensed justice on the spot.
Mine did too, and to underscore that painful lesson, dad would listen to mom, weigh the punishment then proceeded to whoop our ass a second time just to cement the lesson we maybe didn’t learn with the mom whooping. They relished tag teaming all six of their kids, especially my brother and me. The four girls didn’t escape unscathed, but were not as rambunctious and pig headed as us boys were(still am).
Yup, mine too. Dad told Mom he didn’t want to hear about it. She was to take care of it at the time of the infraction because he had suffered under the heavy hand of his father. It wasn’t until we were teenagers that he might step in over something serious, and we would get a ‘dressing down’.
My folks had a paddle hanging on the corner wall of the kitchen. It didn’t often get used, but when it did, you knew why and it HURT!
Same thing for the penguins in grade school. When you had to step back into the coat room, and that massive ruler came down on your palm, you knew why. The deterrent effect was huge.
My mom would hold your arm & whisper “Do you want me to embarrass you?”
Dad:
Strike one was a look(a mixture of disappointment, disgust, and disbelief).
Strike two was a firm “knock that shit off”
Strike three was “Go get my belt”
No arguments, no ifs, ands, or buts.
If you got sent for the belt, hanging on the door, you got the belt.
Mom:
Not quite,as consistent, but you always knew when you were crossing the line.
When you crossed it, it got dealt with, then and there. Mom was open minded about method of delivery, and quite skilled with the Belt, hairbrush, spatula, wooden spoon, or shoe.