Catturd: I was 5-years-old in 1969 …
(media.greatawakening.win)
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He'll, in sixth grade my teacher Mrs. Wilson smacked me upside the head with a wooden stick just for looking at the prettiest girl in the class!
Her name was Katie!
I married that girl!
I love that story, except maybe the stick bit.
I dunno, even Katie says I deserved it though she sure didn't seem to mind the attention.
1969 the Dean had a huge wooden paddle with big 1in holes drilled in it, I know because it was a shop class project. Always pissed me off getting "swats" from something I had a hand in making!
hahah what a great story. Gives me an idea maybe we can get Hillary and he cohorts making rope at Gitmo
What a great thought! LOL!
Perhaps she wanted to see you get paddled for her. It was a test and you passed!
She actually did witness that, LoL, too funny! And she still remembers it!
The Catholic school I went to in the early 60's, the principal, Sister Mary Justin, had a paddle kind of like that, only it had lots of smaller holes (and was 1" thick oak)! We would have to bend over, hold our ankles and, SWAT!!!!! Man, did that sting!
Oh man, exactly! Our dean had two different tile squares from all the others right outside his office in hallway, put your feet on each square, bend over and grab your ankles! (Must have some universal training? I don't know but you are not the first that describes it perfectly, just the way it happened)
And Yes, "the STING!" OH MY GOODNESS! LoL! I remember dancing in the hallway rubbing my butt try to ease the pain!
Of course it was done in the hallway corridor so the sounds of the swats would echo through all the classrooms. They didn't let other students witness it but atleast half the entire school damn sure heard it!
I had a social studies teacher that would stop, count out the swats by rapping his wooden pointer-wand on the chalkboard and then pontificate over the severity of the crime according to how many swats we all heard!
Ahh, the joyous memories of youth!
Thanks for smiles!
Last week on the Internet cover stories; there was one about the most dangerous things we used to do in the 1960's. I couldn't believe it when one of those things was getting your butt whipped. I shook my head thinking; this is what is wrong with society now. This is why we have our jails and prisons filled up. This is why we have smart mouthed kids. I got my butt whipped plenty of times. I think I turned out to be a good person. But these Liberals seem to think that whipping our kids is torture and so now you can't. I say, "Spare the rod and spoil the child." The Liberals wouldn't know what that means.
All the kids in my neighborhood in FL ran behind the mosquito fogger trucks in the 1960's. They burned oil to create smoke that was mixed with the pesticide. It was probably DDT! Our parents were so clueless regarding such things. Later, the truck quit using the oil smoke and just sprayed a mist of pesticide, and us stupid kids STILL ran behind it! (and the truck driver would yell at us to get away; at least he was smart enough to know how stupid it was, unlike our parents :) )
Agree 100%!
I would never condone child abuse but there's a huge difference between "discipline" and abuse.
I never got a whoopin I didn't deserve, including the second one when I got home and had to tell my pop what I did!
See, I think the Liberals who started the whole “you can’t spank your child nonsense” knew exactly what would happen if you let young, impressionable kids be “free spirits”. Liberals who grew up with this brainwashing might not understand how they’re really harming their child by not disciplining them, but the ones who started us down the idiotic path of child psychology knew, IMHO. I got plenty of spankings growing up, I deserved every single one of them, and there were some spankings that I didn’t get but I should have.
Good kids respond to non-violent forms of discipline, and violence just makes bad kids (psychopathic, personality disordered) worse. What kids usually had more of in the 1960s was parental and family attention and community. Mom was likely home with them, the neighbors' mothers were home, too, so kids could easily play together outside or at each other's homes, families tended to live near each other and had regular get-togethers with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, and everyone wasn't always on the computer or their phone.
Dad? Is that you?
VH were lovers, not fighters.
And the he'll!
I know, right!
And we're not talking "ogling or anything improper here" I was 10! They were lining up at the door to go out for recess, I smiled at her as she passed by and I guess looked at her a few seconds longer than the teacher approved of. Smack!
I mowed that ladies lawn for atleast 4-5 summers, I always pissed on her favorite rose bush! But the damn thing seemed to thrive on it! Got bigger and bushier every week! I always smiled when the first frost of winter came, LoL, it was like Finally it's dead! Yay!
She always referred to me as "that heathen" lol.
I dunno, I have been told all my life that I have a bit of an "attitude problem" when it comes to dealing with "authority".
GUILTY as charged!
Which could have something to do with landing in MMI (Millersburg Military Institute, Kentucky) by 8th grade?
Ha, I think urea is a substance people purposely apply to roses, so I guess you were fertilizing that bush all along. Opposite of the intended effect!
Oh man! Really? I had no idea!
She did have beautiful roses. LoL.
Well I guess I don't have to feel so guilty anymore. In later years, much later years, I have felt really bad about what I did.
LOL! Good for you :)
My 6th grade teachers name was Mrs. Wilson. She never hit me with a stick and it was the 90s.
This was 25 or so years earlier.
My 6th grade teacher's name was Mr. Gilson. He never hit me but he got pretty bent out of shape the time I (accidentally) broke a window.