Fuck, when I was a kid a properly violent smacking on the arse was a regular occurrence, for more serious offences My father would use a bamboo cane, or maybe take his belt off and leather 6 shades out of me. And this was for normal kid stuff. I was never a properly ill-behaved child. I lived in fear of my father and those threats of "wait till your father gets home" had real substance.
Yet he loved me, I loved him and loved spending time with him. We would ride for miles on our bikes. Far more miles than I'd care to do these days. I think it was fairly normal parenting back in the 70s and 80s. Mind you I didn't have any kind of real conversation with my father until I was 24 and about to go to university. Not the closest of relationships.
Fuck, when I was a kid a properly violent smacking on the arse was a regular occurrence, for more serious offences My father would use a bamboo cane, or maybe take his belt off and leather 6 shades out of me. And this was for normal kid stuff. I was never a properly ill-behaved child. I lived in fear of my father and those threats of "wait till your father gets home" had real substance.
Yet he loved me, I loved him and loved spending time with him. We would ride for miles on our bikes. Far more miles than I'd care to do these days. I think it was fairly normal parenting back in the 70s and 80s. Mind you I didn't have any kind of real conversation with my father until I was 24 and about to go to university. Not the closest of relationships.