The lost hairbrush

When I was raising my son Drew, I was firm believer in corporal punishment. Although when he was very young I used my hand to spank, from about six upwards my implement of choice for his bared bottom was a hairbrush I kept especially for the job.

I bought the brush in an antiques flea market not far from my home when Drew was about four. It was oval and made of ebony. I had suffered something similar as a little girl and thought the brush would be the perfect way of keeping my son in line.

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