In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I’ve become My Parents.”
Do you ever find yourself doing something your parents used to do when you were a kid, despite the fact you hated it back then?
Early on as a child, I understood my parents were hard disciplinarians, like most of the parents in my neighborhood. However, as a teenager, I worked overtime skirting their authority and rules with devilish plans, which worked favorably on several occasions.
My mother was strict, and my father was the silent authoritarian who enforced the final disciplinarian rules on my mother’s orders. My older brother and I usually were the recipients of the disciplining and yes we were deserving of or punishments.
I only received three spankings by a belt, which were two more than I deserved. I took a third because I watch my brother get his and I was caught laughing. The lesson I learned that day was when siblings are being spanked. Hide!
To maintain calm in a home occupied by three boys, two girls, and a large German Shepard dog. My father would occasionally make the following dreaded statement in his gentle yet soft baritone-bass voice, “You know, you have not had your butts spanked in a while.” Now, this comment immediately stopped my brother and me from doing whatever it was we were not supposed to be doing.
It is because of my father’s comment, I only received three spankings between the age of five and twelve. By the time we were teenagers, we were well aware of the house rules, so there were no debates or discussions as we aged out of the house.
Fast forward, twenty years into the future and I found myself with my ten-year-old son, and I do not want to become the disciplinarian parent, my parents were.
Whenever he misbehaved, I always sent him to his room to read a book allowing us some time apart. However, on this occasion, he became persistent, asking for the twelfth time “(Yes I counted)” to return outside to play. What came next is something I thought I would never say to my child.
As he stood in the doorway making his request, somewhere deep within my psyche, my father’s calm baritone-bass voice came forward, and I said. “You know, you have not had your butt spanked in a while.”
The shock of seeing his wide oversized eyes scared me as did the statement that I could not believe I heard exit my mouth. He quickly returned to this room, never to be heard from until I tucked him into bed and kissed him goodnight, a couple of hours later.
I sat utterly stunned for several minutes trying to understand why I made the comment. I was still in shock when I called and spoke to my mother telling her what happened.
During the conversation, I could sense humor in her voice, as we talked. She gave me some parenting advice. I later apologized to my son and reemphasized that he has to follow the house rules no matter what.
But on that day, “I became my parents,” although, not so much a disciplinarian and a strict rules manager as they were, however, I inherited their parenting skills.