As a kid growing up in The Barnes household, I hated when my Dad uttered those 4 words! Searching for the tool of my own demise? What kind of psychological witchcraft was this?
Raise your hand if you've ever had an ass whoopin'?
Everyone's hands should go up.
If yours didn't, we can't be friends. Just kidding. You can stay. Just know that you can't be trusted, though. In fact, go sit over there so I can keep my eyes on you.
Anyway, for those of you on this side of the room with a raised hand or two, I empathize.
There ain't nothing else remotely similar to a good ole-fashioned ass-whoopin'. I'm talking worn leather applied to the seat of your misunderstanding or a bamboo switch across the ashy plains of your hard-headed legs. I still remember the look and feel of that belt today. When it used to hang loosely around the faux-brass doorknob of whatever random door it was laid to rest after its use, it looked docile. It looked weak, even. Ole punk-ass belt. But, mannnnnn, when it was in my Dad's hand it look like something fashioned in Old Testament God's anger workshop.
Feeling a leather belt or switch applied to your ashy skin changes you, man. I mean, it actually changes your brain chemistry. Don't quote me on that, I just said it so it sounds like I know what I'm talking about. You probably believed it, too, huh?
Seriously, though. I’ve had some whuppings that have changed the trajectory of my life. Some have even caused me to wax intellectually. There have been times, in the middle of my weeping and gnashing of teeth, that I’ve even had a few out-of-body experiences and wondered why I did the dumb sh*t in the first place. You know, the Spike-Lee-Joint-inspired panoramicly reflective moments. Ha!
Now, I know that there are many anti-whupping advocates out there today and that’s fine. They probably don’t have kids and if they do, they are The Children of The Corn. Nah, that’s harsh. If and how parents discipline their kids is up to them.
I just know that I turned out alright with many stories to tell. I think. LOL