My dad would occasionally spank me for serious screw ups, but his game was to toss me into the bathroom for an hour to meditate on what was to come. To this day I hate waiting for anything and have become proficient at cutting through red tape, demolishing a rival’s argument with direct logic, traveling from point A to point B with as few stops as possible, speaking my mind, being intolerant of stupidity and many other concept-to-direct-action behaviors. He also used to play his swing era 78’s real loud on weekend mornings like revile and I grew up with a talent for music. I guess that’s how psychology works.
>>but his game was to toss me into the bathroom for an hour to meditate on what was to come. <<
Bingo.
My dad would tell us that he was going to give us a spanking at noon on Saturday. By Saturday morning, we were blubbering idiots. He would call us at noon, make us sit on a chair, snap a belt and ask if we were sorry for what we did. Normally, If one could actually pull breath, one would beg for forgiveness.
He would then tell you to “assume a position” (which meant bend over and grab your ankles) then gently pop you with the belt through full clothes.
Each of us got it once except my stupid oldest sister who got smarmy and would start screaming. She got the full belt on a bare butt.
Now my mother was not as controlled and she would smack you in the face for backtalking. The oldest sister got a cup of coffee thrown at her once. We younger ones learned from her stupidity.