When I hear people say they were born in the 80's... or....the dreaded 90's....seriously there is nothing worse than sitting in one of my classes at school and hearing the birthdate of a fellow student is the year I graduated high school....damn whipper snappers and their youthful glow!
So my generations parents still believed in the corporal punishment..meaning...getting your butt whipped for wrong doings. There was no such thing as time out, or meaningful psychiatric sessions on why you decided to shave the dog with your mothers razor....you were not allowed to defend yourself....you were guilty before proven innocent.
And normally most people around my relative age or older have that story....you know that....
"STORY"
That "Story" you pull out during the holidays in the presence of your parents about that unjustified beating you received as a child. You share the ghastly experience with much flair, oomph, and pizazz, about the injustice of pain that was brought down upon you, and how you will never forget it.
and normally your parents reaction is a blank stare followed up by the statement ....
"I am sure you deserved the beating!"
...and then they share several other examples of beatings that may have been justified...like painting your bedroom wall with Vaseline or shutting the family dogs tail in the door....
..and there you are left with no justice or apology..just various examples of wrong doings of your childhood....so you tuck it away in your back pocket to bring up at the next family celebration in hopes your parents will see the wrongs of their way.
My father shared his "STORY" while at a family reunion... and I even took a picture of the scene of the punishment or crime against humanity ....whatever you want to call it....
My father was playing in this area with his cousin. There was an old abandoned car that was his grandfathers that sat here, and the kids would play in the car. You can't see in the photo but there is a creek that runs through town, and it is a steep V shape,the walls are concrete with jagged rocks all along it. Well my dads mom brought my dads younger brother, and their other cousin outside, and asked my dad to watch after them. My dad states, that his mother looked at Miles (my dads brother) and Brenda ( my dads cousin) before going back inside and told them to stay away from the creek. About this time his other cousin (Cheryl) is having a hard time opening the car door on the abandoned car so my dad begins to help her, and he is just tall enough to see over the hood of the car, to see Brenda take Miles hand go to the edge of creek and fall down the steep concrete walls down to the creek and out of sight of my dad. Brenda did not let go, she took Miles with her. Miles was young, maybe 4 at most. Dad goes to the creek and Brenda is a little scrapped up, but just wet, but his baby brother was tumbling down the creek with reckless abandon. Luckily Mile's caught the edge of a rock further down the creek and washed up the side of the concrete walls. He had blood pouring from his head and face, he was beat up.
My dad gets him, and walks him back to the house. By this time his mom was outside, and here comes dad with his bloody baby brother in tow. Which by the way, Miles still has a scar on his chin from this incident.
Now here is where the "STORY" part is. It was technically Brenda's fault..but here is the problem, Brenda is mentally handicapped...so not really accountable...so who is accountable...the one left in charge even though he could have done nothing to prevent it. Brenda was patted on the head and asked if she was okay and then my dads mother picked him up, and as he says, "gave him the beating of his life!" ...and then his aunt (Brenda's mother) comes outside and pats Brenda on the head and then proceeds to pick up my dad and beat him also. So not just one beating, but two were given that day, even though it was Brenda's fault.
If my grandmother and great aunt were still alive I am sure their response would be.......
"I am sure he deserved the beating!"
So this takes place in 1950's now lets fast forward to about 1980 or so....and let me share my "STORY".
I know my mom thinks I am going to share the "Christmas/Ungrateful Brat" incident....
That "STORY" is debatable..I got my butt beat...it was more my sisters fault that things escalated.... but she was past the butt beating age... so I was the one that got the wrath of a haggard, tired mother on Christmas day.....It is a "STORY" but there is some reasonable doubt involved in that "STORY".....because I may, or may not have, kicked my sister in the shin at some point in that "STORY".....
Anyways I have a "STORY" where there is no reasonable doubt....I was beat, punished,....and...dare I say tortured.....
That is right...my parents probably have the quizzical look on their face right now...this was moms doing...so dad your off the hook.
Children of the 80's remember the beloved Hot Cycle?
So I had just gotten that beloved cycle, and me and the neighbor girl were playing together. We were taking turns on the bike and then this neighbor girl decided to no longer share MY bike...she would not give it back...so we began to argue back and forth. My mom must have heard us arguing, she came outside, grabbed me, and beat my butt in front of this neighbor girl, and then told me to go inside. Mom let this girl ride my Hot Cycle the rest of the day. I was sharing...the neighbor girl was not sharing.......and she was rewarded... and I was beat.
My mother does not have a response for this story, she decided to go with,
"I don't remember doing that, that never happened!"......
The ol' I don't remember angle..uh huh....
It is my "STORY" and I remember it like it was yesterday.
I bring all this up because in one of the twins classes they exchange a journal back and forth with their teacher. One of the questions the teacher asked was, "What has been the worst day your life"..... The response of the twin was...
... the day she was sent to her room... not once,......not twice...but three times for various things that were not her fault!
So I am prepared and I am armed for the day when we are sitting around ...when they are adults with their own children...and she brings up this day of infamy in her head...
...the day injustice was done to her......and shares her "STORY" with me....
and I can say.......
"I am pretty sure you deserved it!"
I love it and I loved hearing your dad tell his "story" about his beating that he deserved. Your dad tells the best stories!! So do you! I guess because my boys are just that much older that they already tell me about all the injustices that they have had to endure and so I already get to tell them that "I'm pretty sure they deserved that!" :)
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