Starting again

I am a child of the 60s, and so not surprisingly when I was a naughty little boy, my mother had little compunction about baring my bottom and putting me over her knee for a good, sound smacking.

Spankings began at around three or four years old, and over the next few years my mother’s lap and I became very well acquainted. I was always left with a smarting, red bottom and I learned some important lessons – so much so, that by the time I turned eight years old, corporal punishment had pretty much become obsolete in our house.

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