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I and my siblings were allowed to roam the streets just so long as we were home for dinner. Mind you if we were rude then we were sent to father for the cane and if we were not seated, hands washed by the time we said grace then we were sent to bed with no dinner. I could come to her with any problem and she would answer my questions but she never told me what to do.
I do not recall her ever shouting.
I do not recall ever arguing with her. If I or any of my siblings were not ready when we were supposed to be going somewhere then either she would just get in the car and go on her own or just not go.
aside from the inappropriate shouting, crying and hitting (all from her end) I don't remember much. I wasn't a kid who got into a lot of trouble though but that may be because I knew I'd get punched in the stomach or something if I got caught doing something wrong.
My mother had a secret weapon: The box of TSP multi-purpose cleaner that was under the kitchen sink. An ingenious weapon of mass destruction which would cause even the most ill-behaved child to suddenly have the countenance of an angel if threatened with an afternoon of washing the floors. By hand. On your knees. With a rag. And a toothbrush.
The truth is Mom did not have to discipline me she just had to tell Dad and knowing that I was pretty good.
My mother never played the "wait until your father gets home game."
My Mother ran the house, and part of running the house was dealing with the children.
That said, my Mother didn't rule with physical discipline. She grounded us.
As a result, we pretty much behaved. Our household was fairly calm.
That said, I do remember my Mother lining us all up in the kitchen once and waving a wooden spoon demanding to know where X was.
I can't remember what X was. All I know is I had nothing to do with X.
One of my older sisters started yelling at me to admit that I was the one that took X.
(I'm certain SHE WAS THE ONE who took X and was trying to deflect the crime onto me!)
Nothing came of this. Nobody was ever spanked with that wooden spoon. Nobody even feared the wooden spoon.
It was just a one-time comical lineup of children with a mother trying to desperately find X----which she never found!
I was probably five years old. That's the first and last time my Mother tried to threaten us with physical discipline. Since it didn't work, she stuck with groundings instead.
I and my siblings were allowed to roam the streets just so long as we were home for dinner. Mind you if we were rude then we were sent to father for the cane and if we were not seated, hands washed by the time we said grace then we were sent to bed with no dinner. I could come to her with any problem and she would answer my questions but she never told me what to do.
I do not recall her ever shouting.
I do not recall ever arguing with her. If I or any of my siblings were not ready when we were supposed to be going somewhere then either she would just get in the car and go on her own or just not go.
My parents had a saying.....You can go outside, do what ever, but don't let the street lights beat you home.
My mother had a secret weapon: The box of TSP multi-purpose cleaner that was under the kitchen sink. An ingenious weapon of mass destruction which would cause even the most ill-behaved child to suddenly have the countenance of an angel if threatened with an afternoon of washing the floors. By hand. On your knees. With a rag. And a toothbrush.
I use to hate doing dishes. If we did a poor job, mommy would wait good until we got into a deep commatose sleep, wake us up and took EVERY dish, pot and pan out of the cabinets and made us wash them...urggg. Love you Mom
Last edited by blackandproud; 11-13-2010 at 02:28 PM..
I use to hate doing dishes. If we did a poor job, mommy would wait good until we got into a deep commatose sleep, wake us up and took EVERY dish, pot and pan out of the cabinets and made us wash them...urggg. Love you Mom
My mother wouldn't have done that over dishes.
But she woke us up SUPER EARLY to help with housework if we got caught drinking. She ensured we experienced the worst hangover ever.
It worked too. Decades later, my siblings and I are still not drinkers.
My mother could drive the red Chevy station wagon and swing one long arm in a sweep, catching five heads, without swerving, when we wouldn't stop fighting.
My mother could drive the red Chevy station wagon and swing one long arm in a sweep, catching five heads, without swerving, when we wouldn't stop fighting.
LMAO... I just got a visual...
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