There are a few topics that can split a small-town Facebook group faster than politics or potholes. Recently, we stumbled into one of those landmine debates: spanking children.
The Whoopin Era
Now, I grew up in the era when spanking wasn’t a question of “if,” it was a question of “how often.” And if we’re being honest, in my case, it was daily.
My parents could’ve earned frequent flyer miles with how often they were handing out whoopins, and that’s not to say my childhood was full of trauma… I was just one of those kids it never worked on. Mom regularly wore out belts, switches, wooden spoons, flip-flops, etc… And once, in one of the most hilarious discipline moments of my childhood, a dishrag. No matter what the weapon of choice was, I’d take my licks and go right back to whatever I wasn’t supposed to be doing before the sting wore off.
My sisters feared the belt and always chose to be grounded instead, but my parents were fair. Once we had our whippins, the moment was over and forgiven and forgotten…