If you’re from the South, you know that getting a “whoopin’” is indeed the deepest form of affection a parent can show. I know that all of the parenting magazine, experts, and doctors will tell you that it is psychologically damaging to put your hands swiftly onto the rear end of your child, but I’m here to tell you that it is quite the opposite. Growing up, both my mom and dad had full rights and took full advantage of spankings. And I am grateful for it!

I remember my brother and I jumping off the kitchen counter onto a pile of every pillow and couch cushion we owned. I also remember having my bottom handed to me when my mother walked in the door at 5:30 after a long and stressful day at work only to find her 8 and 14-year-old standing on top of the kitchen peninsula that was beginning to sag from the weight. It went by in slow motion: her face went from exhausting to computing to understanding to anger and then landed on resolve-resolve to seek retribution for her nearly damaged kitchen counter. In that slow motion I could also hear my brothers thoughts: “oh no” they read very clearly. It took us all of .008 seconds to climb down onto a bar stool onto our split brick floors. You may be thinking Why didn’t you just jump off? I will tell you why. That would have been very unwise and would have added a significantly larger amount of pain to our punishment. Never add insult to injury.

In our house, my dad traveled for work. You would think that this would make things easier when it came to punishment, but no. See, like any really good dad, mine had this voice about him (even through the phone) that struck fear in the very fiber of my being (and I’ll be honest, still does from time to time). Not only would I endure a brown leather belt, worn from frequent use, across my pancake, I also had to endure what felt like hours until my dad called and asked about our day. Through tears and crying hiccups, I would explain to him the terrible mistake I had made by playing “Jump-off-the-counter-onto-the-pillows-and-clean-them-all-up-before-mom-get’s-home-but-oops-we-lost-track-of-time-crap-here-she-comes”. Those were the days…

So, mom, thanks for loving me enough to not let me get away with everything. Dad, thank you for showing me that a real man can still be a great father from 700 miles away. Nick, thanks for playing “Jump-off-the-counter-onto-the-pillows...”. It really was the best.