Fantasy Island Whoopin
We had been behaving badly at the Ponderosa for a late night dinner. It was a special occasion grandma and grandpa had joined us. We drove two cars, mom, dad, bro and I in one. Gran and Gramps in the other. On the drive home mom told us she was very upset by our childish behavior. She did not yell or show anger, she looked toward us in the back seat and said "You have a choice for your punishment when we get home. You can either go straight to bed, or you can stay up and watch Fantasy Island but if you choose Fantasy Island you must receive a spanking first." Oh the dilemma!
This was one of my first hard decisions in life, and I was not having an easy time with it. Fantasy Island had become a routine in our young lives. We loved our Fantasy Island, right after the Love Boat . On the other hand I knew mama's whoopings, she used the wooden spoon technique. Over the pants but multiple times in quick hard succession. It Hurt!
I had a while to think it over in the dark car ride home, but it was getting late. My brother knew immediately his choice. Bring on the whoopin. He wanted his Fantasy Island. I on the other hand was in torture. Why was this decision so hard. As kids anything to stay up later at night was always quite an attraction, maybe the threat of having that taken away made the choice seem more difficult.
Finally about 20 long minutes later as we pulled up to the house I told my mom my decision. I would be going straight to bed-no spanking. While lying in bed I mulled over my choice. Had I made the right decision? I could not shake these thoughts. I came to a conclusion. I had not made the right decision. I went right back down stairs to take it like a man and see my Fantasy Island.
As I entered the living room the scene was dark. The lights were off only the glow of the t.v set that my brother lay close in front of. My parents were behind him on the couch watching as well. I walkded up to mother and said I had changed my mind. She looked at me and said "are you sure? I broke the spoon on your brother". She held up just the stick of the spoon, the paddle part had been cracked off. How sadistic was this shit. Amazingly enough the choice yet again was still hard for me. Had the spoon broke on the first whack on my brothers bony ass and he only got one hit. Or did mom go out of control and keep hammering away until the spoon broke and she decided that was enough. Maybe the spoon itself was defected or had become weak from past whoopins. Still I chose the spanking.
Mom had me go into the kitchen to get the weapon. Wooden spoons were not scarce at our house, we had plenty. As I bent over her lap the torture began for what seemed like a full thirty seconds. Quick hard whacks that did not let up. Im talkin a real 30 seconds- One thousand and one, one thousand two, etc. Finally she stopped, and I went immediately over to lay side by side with my brother, on my stomack with my head propped up in my hands staring contently at the screen. I had earned this! Just then Mr. Rork had said his usual conclusion of the guests stories to Tattoo, and the credits started to roll. The show was over. I had waited to long in bed rethinking my decision. I looked back towards my parents with immediate protest. "Ok, up to bed my mother said." She was not being fair, I pleaded for just another half hour of t.v. I had missed the whole show, AND I received the spanking! She did not budge. My brother and I had to make the long walk upstairs to our bedrooms, my butt still in pain from the recent attack.
Moral of the story: It is best to stick with your first choice.