I have my own nightmares. Mine used them Dr Schol wood sandals…
Divemedic
· April 4, 2022 at 6:50 am
My mom would tear me up with a shoe.
EN2 SS
· April 4, 2022 at 10:04 am
My mom was 5’ tall and weighed less than a hundred pounds. She would hit me with whatever she could grab the quickest. Relax, I deserved every whack. LOL
booger
· April 4, 2022 at 9:35 am
She may chase you with a shoe, but, without a doubt can make home made tortillas from scratch. Never known a single white womens who fed her man fresh tortillas.
Big Ruckus D
· April 4, 2022 at 2:03 pm
Heh. I never got whupped with a shoe or flip flop. Mom’s preferred implements of pain were a rubber spatula or a wood or plastic serving spoon (the large ones sized more like a pasta scoop). I also got the belt a few times if the aforementioned weren’t handy.
Dad didn’t do nearly as much discipline in our household, but when he did, I knew I was fooked. He liked going with the delayed punishment. Wait a few hours until things cooled off, then give me a whack out of the blue with a “that’s for [whatever stupid shit] you did earlier (that I didn’t want to chase you around for at the time)!” He was a smart guy, saving his breath and then getting me later once I thought I was in the clear.
6 Comments
Bean Dip Tray · April 3, 2022 at 6:29 pm
Flip flops are a construct of the white male patriarchy.
Miguel GFZ · April 4, 2022 at 6:02 am
I have my own nightmares. Mine used them Dr Schol wood sandals…
Divemedic · April 4, 2022 at 6:50 am
My mom would tear me up with a shoe.
EN2 SS · April 4, 2022 at 10:04 am
My mom was 5’ tall and weighed less than a hundred pounds. She would hit me with whatever she could grab the quickest. Relax, I deserved every whack. LOL
booger · April 4, 2022 at 9:35 am
She may chase you with a shoe, but, without a doubt can make home made tortillas from scratch. Never known a single white womens who fed her man fresh tortillas.
Big Ruckus D · April 4, 2022 at 2:03 pm
Heh. I never got whupped with a shoe or flip flop. Mom’s preferred implements of pain were a rubber spatula or a wood or plastic serving spoon (the large ones sized more like a pasta scoop). I also got the belt a few times if the aforementioned weren’t handy.
Dad didn’t do nearly as much discipline in our household, but when he did, I knew I was fooked. He liked going with the delayed punishment. Wait a few hours until things cooled off, then give me a whack out of the blue with a “that’s for [whatever stupid shit] you did earlier (that I didn’t want to chase you around for at the time)!” He was a smart guy, saving his breath and then getting me later once I thought I was in the clear.
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