What was your worst/standard punishment as a child?

oh and one of the worst (with best outcome) when i was about 15 was my step father attempting to smash my fender telecaster against my bedroom wall (after i was very disrespectful). i thaught it was completely destroyed and with tears in my eyes i pulled it out from the drywall and plugged it in and it was still perfect, if slightly out of tune. 'haha, wanker!' i thaught as i peered into the bathroom through the nice new window he had made all the way through the wall.

Thats awesome^^^

@damo - I got a nice shiner too, but from my dad, and a huge lump on my forehead that looked like a tennis ball was going to erupt from under my skin. It was when he punched me, and I fell onto the garden patio pretty hard. I was about 12. I'd been 'waving my legs in the air too close to him' or something.

It was the only time they (parents) looks a bit panicked, and I while I was laying concussed on the sofa, they got me to rehearse the made up story I was to tell at school if asked what happened.

Most times he never marked the face. It's great having a fucking pimp for a father :/

7 years old, said something rude in front of my mum after being told not to, she chased me, caught me, put fairy liquid on my toothbrush and brushed my teeth, with future warnings of 'i'll wash your mouth out with soap if you do that again'.

it was disgusting.

fairy liquid in the mouth.

+1

As a result of sharing a room with my brother as a youth, I sport an asymetrical countenance (nose pointing to right side)

a) I would watch his cable TV
b) In return, he would proceed to render me immobile (by trapping me under his four legged stool).
c) Fascinated by the malleable cartilage of which, in the main, my "nose" at the time seemed to be consisted (a far cry from his own bone tempered proboscis)...
d) he would detain me,chiefly by means of maintaining a heavy presence upon the stool which constrained me, while forcibly trying to "delete" my "nose" by means of manual attack (squashing).
e) Occasionally my father would bellow.

I will never forget the look on my parents faces when they picked me up from a night in the cells.
It's a look I wish never to have to replicate.

^Was it one of understanding, love and gentle reproach?

You know, it fucking enrages me to read all this casual violence towards kids in the seventies and eighties.
There's some fucking rubbish mythical misty glow of nostalgia about a grown woman or man beating the crap out of a child because their parents did, or their friends did, or because 'that's how things were then'. It's depressing that people only seem to have got their shit together about how frightened children can be about this behaviour in the last fifteen or twenty years - before then it was just how it went.
I still remember the terror I felt about my father, his huge form bearing down to leather either me or one of my three brothers. I didn't get beaten much, but my brothers were. My behaviour was frozen by the terror of physical reprisals from my father - you might say the threat worked, but in the end it was discipline through threat and terror. I wouldn't expect a government to act that way, and parents are the government of a house. THe terror my father wielded over me has sent huge ripples into my adult life, and I still occasionally have fantasies about going round to his house and stamping him to death, while screaming, 'PICK UP YOUR FUCKING LEGO!!!!'

It's so cruel that parents twat you when you are small, but when you reach six foot four and fourteen stone they are suddenly beyond the law to reap revenge on.

I will never forget the look on my parents faces when they picked me up from a night in the cells.
It's a look I wish never to have to replicate.

I like to think it was an expression of undiluted mirth.

But I bet it wasn't...

i got a smack, simple, i knew it hurt and i knew i'd get one if i mucked about. the threat went like this

'don't do that, don't do that graeme, graeme stop it please, stop it, STOP IT, STOP IT THIS INSTANT OR YOU WILL GET A SMACK, SMACK

i was warned enough. i chose myself not to stop, plus how i see it other animals do it, so why can't humans. chimps don't have naughty steps. (but please lets now start a whole other discussion on that and how we have rational though etc etc)

well it was that or a banning from TV/SNES that did it for me

I wouldn't expect a government to act that way, and parents are the government of a house.

huh......?

Parents govern house. They say what goes.
Most of the time.
I know there are some houses that consult four year olds on what area they are going to buy a new house in, or where they are going on holiday, but to be honest, most kids are expected to do as they are told.
Just like, as citizens, we are expected to go to work, pay taxes, keep our fucking noses clean.
When we step out of line, governments sometimes get nasty, and we, as a population, are rightly outraged.
Because this behaviour is wrong.
I do not expect a government that I have elected to turn violent towards the electorate.
Now, kids don't vote their parents in, but being a parent is a position of power AND privilege, a position that is easily degraded into domination and threat, just like a government.

As a parent, I think every parent has to resist the temptation to rule by force, as this is a terrible example to new, young minds.

Is that ok?

I can't say how you should treat your kids. I know nothing of parenting. I have no desire ever to be a parent. I have a very distant relationship with my family (geographically as well as emotionally), though I don't dislike them in the slightest I just don't have any desire to be involved in any kind of family life, and I genuinely don't understand people who do.

This is no doubt related to my upbringing, but I don't feel poorer for it. If anything I have a freedom that those who visit their mothers once a week will never enjoy.

'70s and '80s...!? My parents were still hitting me into the mid '90s. As far as I can tell I'm quite glad I wasn't an actual cunt of a kid because I'd probably be dead. I'm pretty certain I was a model child, cleaned the house every weekend, didn't really watch much TV, rode my bike, played tennis, swam at club level, "very high achiever" at school etc etc. Somehow I still managed to get hit with a wooden spoon, slippers, and slapped around the back of the head or on the face. It made me grow up thinking I was a little shit, it was only when I turned 12 and I managed a sort of self awareness that I realised I was getting a bit of a raw deal compared to everyone else.

My parents always did kind of pseudo-violence when they got really angry about something. Get shouty and swing arms like they were going to hit you hard, but then just give a little tap at worst. I think this achieved any of the same positive outcomes that a genuine beating might have.

Most of my cousins were beaten with anything from shoes to brooms right through their teenage years.

All of the kids in our family were given quite a lot of responsibility at a young age. Neither of my parents spoke english, and we were very poor. There was not much point in being bratty about anything, we were mostly smart enough not to do anything moronic and we matured very quickly all by ourselves.

I think that most kids that people think might be ripe for benefitting from a beating, probably just need some responsibility.

'70s and '80s...!? My parents were still hitting me into the mid '90s. As far as I can tell I'm quite glad I wasn't an actual cunt of a kid because I'd probably be dead. I'm pretty certain I was a model child, cleaned the house every weekend, didn't really watch much TV, rode my bike, played tennis, swam at club level, "very high achiever" at school etc etc. Somehow I still managed to get hit with a wooden spoon, slippers, and slapped around the back of the head or on the face. It made me grow up thinking I was a little shit, it was only when I turned 12 and I managed a sort of self awareness that I realised I was getting a bit of a raw deal compared to everyone else.

Lol! I am very familiar with this whole thing. Bengali?

The difference between our generation and those what have gone before us is that we are sophisticated, educated and too busy talking to strangers on the internet and drinking wine to slap our children.

I had a P.E teacher at school who stripped me down to my keks and liked to yell & poke me (with his finger) very hard.

Once he left me in the corridor and locked the door behind me, so all the other kids could point and laugh. It was all getting rather out of hand, he gave me an ultimatum of doing what I was told or not coming to P.E again. Guess which I chose?

Last I heard he had cancer.

The other P.E teacher at the school also punched me one one occasion, pinned me down on several, threw shit at me when he got angry, and gave another kid I knew a good slapping.

He still works at the school, and I keep thinking about some long-deserved revenge.

Got the belt just the once for being hauled into the head mistresses office one to many time, the threat was always there but I think I was the only one out of 5 of us to get it. Also had the usual slaps about the head for being a little shit but nowt major.

Visiting my parents recently, I was forced/tricked into to watching a slideshow of some relatives holiday snaps. 685 in total.

Imagine,"this is a tree, this is the same tree but from another angle and this is the same tree but with a bird flying by in the background.' x600

Beat anything I had when I was a kid.

My wife loves looking at peoples holiday photos but I hate it. I don't think she realises that it pisses me off when she forces me to sit for an hour doing it!

I wonder what controls peoples reaction to punishment? There are obviously people who think the punishment did them good, some that are opposed to it and some that don't care. Athough I think the punishments were no deterrent for me, I think my parents did an ok job given the knowledge and upbringing they had(strict religious). My sister(also strictly religious) is totally opposed and outraged at my parents about it and has some serious complexes today because of it.

My two younger brothers were raised after the whole physical punishment thing hit the headlines and were beaten much less than I was. They were probably openly less obedient than me(I hid all my wrongdoings) and they didn't care as much. Not sure if that was more about personality or lack of corporal punishment. Probably the former.

very strict religous parents who adopted me when I was 7, been through countless childrens homes until then that had, shall we say, built up a certain disregard to physical violence. It was a complete war of attrition until I was 13 with both my parents more than willing to belt the 'devil' out of me with whatever came to hand.

Always used to escalate as I was a proper stubborn fucker who would just stand there refusing to buckle,crying maybe but never apologising.

Stopped when I was 13 and chased me old man down the street with a kitchen knife when he tried to belt me - went and lived with me nan then…

It took me longer to get over the impact of their words about what an evil little sod I was tho than any of the beltings.

Looking back now I just see them as deluded and they genuinely thought they were doing the right thing and in their minds they were trying to get me to turn from 'wickedness' so I wouldn't rot in hell.

teachers were very creative at school punishment.......bend over position your head under big brass doorknob,then run with very large slipper/plimsole from other end of room and wallop you on arse.....head/doorknob crack
another teacher used to keep his twig/cane in a 3ft test tube thingy full of linseed oil to keep it nice flexible
if the deputy head caught 2 lads fighting,he would drag them into the school hall,go and get 2 pairs of big old leather boxing gloves and let them go at it until one was taking to many punches or first signs of blood ,he would then go round with a school cap collecting money from all the spectators/schoolboys and the divide the money equally between the two combatants,make them shake hands and tell them it ended there......fond memories of the OLD BEC SCHOOL in upper tooting

very strict religous parents who adopted me when I was 7, been through countless childrens homes until then that had, shall we say, built up a certain disregard to physical violence. It was a complete war of attrition until I was 13 with both my parents more than willing to belt the 'devil' out of me with whatever came to hand.

Always used to escalate as I was a proper stubborn fucker who would just stand there refusing to buckle,crying maybe but never apologising.

Stopped when I was 13 and chased me old man down the street with a kitchen knife when he tried to belt me - went and lived with me nan then…

It took me longer to get over the impact of their words about what an evil little sod I was tho than any of the beltings.

Looking back now I just see them as deluded and they genuinely thought they were doing the right thing and in their minds they were trying to get me to turn from 'wickedness' so I wouldn't rot in hell.

Coincidentally, it was when I finally snapped and punched my dad right back (I was 15), that my mum must've put her foot down and demanded that he stopped lashing out.

I'm not glorifying the event - it was fucking horrible.

And like you say, it was the emotional and psychological maltreatment that fucked me up for years thereafter. Similarly to NurseHolliday's experiences, I was a 'high achiever' who was constantly made to feel invalidated… by a pair of emotional invalids, who probably ended up that way due to their own upbringings.

It's the cycle of neverdidmeanyharm.

When I did teacher training (English as foreign language), the only negative feedback from classroom practice was that I didn't give enough praise. It was a real eye-opener for me. I made an effort to change, it felt weird at first, but then became a more habitual behaviour, and everyone benefitted.

I still need to work at praising the good rather than criticising the bad when it comes to my relationship with my nearly 4-year-old son :/

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if the deputy head caught 2 lads fighting,he would drag them into the school hall,go and get 2 pairs of big old leather boxing gloves and let them go at it until one was taking to many punches or first signs of blood ,he would then go round with a school cap collecting money from all the spectators/schoolboys and the divide the money equally between the two combatants,make them shake hands and tell them it ended there......fond memories of the OLD BEC SCHOOL in upper tooting

THAT is fantastic! I'm not one for violence in any form, but the fairness of that is just great.