WHEN A BEATING SOUNDS BETTER THAN A LECTURE

One day (true story), my granddaughter told her father she would prefer that he would beat her because almost anything would be an improvement over another lecture.

The lecture was TWICE as long.

There are times in life for children, adults, and dogs when your best bet is shutting up and pretending you are paying attention.



Categories: #Photography, Childhood, Words, You can't make this stuff up

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23 replies

  1. Your granddaughter was right…beatings only last a minute or two…a lecture could go on for hours – days even!

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  2. lol, as a child when naughty we were offered the belt or the chair, I usually took the belt, Dad didn’t hit us hard, but the lextures were always long and painful!!!!!!!!

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  3. My son said the same thing to me, so he got a spanking and a lecture.

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  4. A knowing smile is good too.
    Leslie

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    • I suppose it depends on the crime. Lectures were my choice when I really thought there was a lesson to be learned. There was also just ignoring it because it doesn’t pay to make a fuss about absolutely everything. Some things? Let them be. They will work out.

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    • Oh, yeah. A knowing smile and bite your bottom lip.

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  5. Short sweet to the point. Browbeating doesn’t work. lol. You do remember them though….with annoyance even years later. lol

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  6. I felt that way too. My mom would go on and on and on with accusations from her deluded universe. When I said that to her she said, “Don’t tempt me.” But god, her tirades were LOoonnnnngggg… 😀

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    • My son probably wasn’t as bad as your mother — mine also went on forever — not deluded but endless nagging, which I hated — but he would NEVER hit her. So if you absolutely know your father is never ever going to whack you, you might as well shut up because every time you say something, you’re just making it go on longer. I too learned that the hard way. And they ALWAYS heard the mumbling “under your breath.” Always.

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    • Agree, Martha. My Mom would go an epic rant, dragging up ALL my “priors”. I’d have to just stand there and take it. Couldn’t pout. That meant more and louder rant.

      If I said, I rather take it a “hit” (and, I really do NOT remember how I’d say this to Mom), she’d get angrier with an “Oh, Yeah!!” and whack me two or three times atop the head (no damage there) before her bursitis kicked in, stopping her.

      I would offer phony compassion for Mom’s compassion. She always bought it. That’s when I had the first hint I could become a TV newsman. Phony compassion.

      Dad?? hell, I steered clear of him. Dad, the former boxer?? No way, Jose! Once or twice, Dad was forced to discipline me. Lesson learned.

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      • My mom sometimes resorted to a back-of-the-hand slap across my face when I said I’d rather she’d hit me. But she hit me enough without my asking her. The most absurd was when my brother broke a bottle of Jade East (remember that?) in the bathroom sink and my my hit me. My brother said, “Why are you hitting Martha Ann? She didn’t do it.”

        My mom said, “That’s beside the point.”

        When all that was over, and I cleaned up the mess (my job?) I headed for the hills…

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