Spanking

[Sundae]

Griff, I don't think it's a slavery thing. One of the worst child abuse cases in this country (codicil, there have been others) was perpetrated by an African woman on her great-niece - who had taken said girl into her custody to give her a better life.

I'm not suggesting for a second that black people are more disposed to violence towards their children. But I think blaming slavery would be an equally shocking assumption. What I found hard to understand was the vitriol poured upon Social Services in this and another high profile case (so-called Baby P). Of course I believe children should be protected. Of course if a child dies and is subsequently found to have 128 separet injuries it is horrific. But for goodness sake - the people who draw a wage in this field are not coining it in. They are not deliberately ignoring signs. They are dealing with devious, callous and unpleasant adults.

Those kind of people, do you think they might lie? Duh! Do you think they might deceive? Hello!

Mistakes were made. Of course. A child (children) died. This has got to hurt people who chose to work with vulnerable people far more than it does journalists. But they still cry full tongue and go on the hunt.

Anyway, sorry - diverted.

I was smacked but never spanked. English usage.
This means I was walloped on the back of the legs in anger rather than being placed over a lap and hit repeatedly.

It terrified me. But I was always more scared of my parents' anger than I was the actual blow. Dads could make me cry (genuinely, not crocodile tears - any crying in our house was reviled by Mum) just by telling me how disappointed he was. He lost his temper about 5 times in the whole time I was growing up, and even the memory of it makes me well up now. Not because he was violent - he never was - but because I knew it was my fault.

Mum, now. Well. I've written a lot here about her. But she does have a temper. And so do I. And we rubbed eachother up so much the wrong way. She smacked me on the legs. Sometimes as I was running up the stairs away from her. But far worse was her tongue lashings. The smackings were scary - I mean, really. My adrenaline kicked in. Silly when after all it's just your Mum.

But the things she said. Well - some of them are still with me.
And they were nasty.
Intended to make me behave, conform, get by in society.
All well meant. Some devastating.
And some life-defining. Like saying, "You just wait, you'll have a child who's as spiteful as you and it will serve you right!" No thanks, Mum. No kids for me.

Smacking is pretty bad.
Some things are worse.