ANSWERS: 7
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Whichever one seemed appropriate to my mom at the time. It was either in the check-out line or I had to wait for my dad to get home.
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Right on the spot.
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Where ever and when ever they felt like it.
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It was immediate.
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I had to stand there in my father's wood workshop and watch him make a paddle to use on me. Took him about 45 minutes. It was a nice one. And it hurt like a bitch.
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Step mom loved to swat me on the legs with a switch from the hedge. Then when Step dad got home and after her lies, which he always believed, He would take the razor strap to the palms of my hands.
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Boola Boo: (
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Lol! my mother had a damaged frontal lobe and was far too impatient and impulsive to make me wait! Fortunately I had six older sisters who usually demanded her fury far more than I!
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