Mom's Inspired Punishments

To say I was an unruly boy would sadly, be putting it mildly.

I spent my youth pushing every envelope I could find. I had mastered the art of manipulation, and learned to work both my parents and the "way things were".

My parents, although hippies, were not against spanking with a belt. And there were countless times when we asked for it just as hard as we got it. Two boys need to be shown limits and discipline. The other favorite punishment method for my parents was to make us stand in the corner.

While this started all loose and easy with a stool facing a wall, with my inventiveness and devious nature, putting me in the corner became a spectator sport. It started by them taking the stool away because I would just go to the corner and nap. Then it became them literally putting my nose in the corner til I could reach out my tongue and touch it. That came about because I would watch tv and only put my face toward the corner when they turned to look at me.

Then came the mirrors. I would always find a way to sneak one to the corner with me. Or grab one when they let me use the bathroom. I would watch tv while facing the corner and they were none the wiser for a while... always just for a while. I think the corner punishment stopped somewhere around the same time that I started doing headstands with my nose in the corner. How can you stay mad at that???

There was also the "you cant come out of your room til it's clean" punishment. Never worked very well on me either. The one thing my dad said he always admired me for was my commitment. When he told me not to come out til it was clean, I didn't come out. I stayed in my room for weeks... only coming out for food and the bathroom. I would just go off in my head and play with my toys. Weeks of a dirty room would go by until finally they would just hang their heads and accept that I was going to live in a dirty bedroom.

Chuck would come up and sit down and give me a lecture about cleaning ones room and doing what your told and all. I would roll my eyes and leave the room as soon as he was done. I would run outside and play, go downstairs to watch tv, go play in the downstairs bedroom... but when I went to bed that night, I would clean my room. It would usually take me about twenty minutes, and I would go to bed after. I can still remember how they had chuckled the next morning about how stubborn I was.

But twice, my mom concocted what can only be described as the most diabolically clever punishments to punish me and teach me my lesson.

The first was more of a physical punishment. When I was in the fifth grade I was the very first stop on a very long bus ride through the mountains to school. Josh always went to a different school than me, so he never missed his bus. There were several mornings when I accidentally missed the bus and then a few mornings when I "accidentally" missed the bus. Mom worked down in Denver so she left before we had to be at the bus.

On those days that I missed the bus, I would call Mom at work and let her know. Mom would do one of two things. She would come home on her lunch and drive me to school, or she would yell at me and then tell me that she would be checking my schoolwork when she got home. I would then spend the entire day playing and watching tv. Then I would pass off old schoolwork as the stuff I had spent the day doing. I told you... sneaky little boy!!

Missing the bus got to be a bit too much of a habit so my mom though of a perfect way to make me stop. One random morning I didn't feel like going to school, and so when Josh and I left for the bus, he went in one direction toward his stop, and I went a little way toward my stop and then walked right back to the front door when he had gone over the hill.

I took off my clothes and got into my pj's. Had a bowl of cereal, turned the tv on, got my breath going and my emotion up, and dialed Mom's work number. She picked up the phone and since I had been holding my breath I let out a breathless story about how I had run after the bus for a good ways, but she never saw me... And how sorry I was, and I wouldn't let it happen again and yadda yadda yadda... Mom wouldn't give up this time though. She just kept saying you better start walking. She played the usual disapproving parent, scolded me and told me that I need to start walking to school and that she was going to check with the school to see what time I got there. I reminded her that while I was ten and kinda smart, I only knew the bus route to school and that drive took almost 30 minutes alone, and I surely would get lost. I told her I knew what they would be covering in school and that she could check my work when she got home. She said she had to go and I hung up the phone and settled in for a nice relaxing day.

About forty minutes later I'm sitting in the living room eating a second bowl of cereal, when I pause. I thought I heard something familiar. The approach of an engine, the parking and slamming of a car door. I got up and rushed to the window overlooking the garage, there parked in front of the garage was Mom's car. I rushed back into the living room just in time to see the front door swing open and Mom storming in, her face all flushed.

"Why aren't you walking?" She spoke very loudly.

"I told you, I didn't know the way..."

"This is going to end now. Put your shoes and coat on, and grab your bag. You are going to school today, and to make sure you never miss the bus again, you are going to walk the entire way!!"


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Seven miles.

It doesn't sound so bad when you just say it. But when faced with the prospect of walking those seven miles through the mountains just so you can be at school at the end... Well, needless to say I threw my tantrums long before I started the walk.

Mom would not be moved. I was always rather impressed with how long she held out on my begging that day. But she had her way eventually, and I started walking. She had her usual collection of books with her and the entire morning off. She read through at least one of those books that morning. I walked through mud and snow and slush and ice and gravel, uphill, being humiliated by all the drivers who pointed to me on the side of the road as I walked.

It was as if each of them knew, and they were pointing to their passengers, possibly misbehaving children too, and say: "See... that's what happens to children who misbehave! That's what will happen to you if you talk back to me while I'm driving!!" Oh yes, the psychological trauma was very well played in this revenge.

You might think this was very dangerous for a ten year old boy to walk seven miles through mountain roads to get to school, and my ten year old self would have said, I KNOW!!! But my Mom was never actually that far away. And that may have been the worst part of the whole ordeal.

I walked, thirsty and humiliated, while she drove around me, parked read her book and waiting till I was out of sight again, drive past me park and resume her book. Three hours it took to walk those seven miles. Three painful hours of humiliation at the hand of my Mom, and the worst just became apparent.

As I walked up the long one lane road that held my school at the far end of it, I could see all the buses parked in the lot. I hoped that my bud driver wasn't there to see my shame (She was, asked me about it the next day). As I got closer to the school it became obvious that I would arrive at the height of recess. Which meant that every student of the school was going to get to see being walked to school like a bad little boy. I walked over to the passenger window of the car and begged her not to make me walk in front of the playground. I cant remember all the different tactics that I used to regain entry into the car, but I can remember the one that did the trick in the end. I simply looked at her and said with my biggest weepy eyes, "these kids already have enough reasons to hate me and make fun of me, please don't give them another!"

Totally got it... hook line and sinker!! She drove me what would amount to the length of two city blocks to the front door. I opened my door and she took my arm. When I turned to look at her she said "what did we learn today, Shane?"

"Not to miss the bus, Mom."

"Good, now go to school."

I never missed the bus again... That walk was a bitch!!! The greatest punishment ever devised by my Mom, however, was made on the spur of the moment, and it still rings in my head...


We were celebrating something for my brother... Maybe it was when he made the wrestling team (or I'm just looking for an excuse to post this pic of him), but more likely it was a hot July night and we were celebrating his birthday. I don't know what I did. I'm not denying that I misbehaved, but I cant remember the specific offence that sparked my punishment, the details have long been out shadowed by the shocking punishment that resulted.

We were already halfway through my brothers birthday night when the offence occurred. My Mom, trying not to let my behaviour ruin my brothers birthday decided on the spot that we would continue on to the main event of the night; Superman 4: The Quest for Peace, at the drive-in with all the treats. Oh what do you want, we were twelve and thirteen!! And yes, I had a secret crush on Dolf Lundgren... what of it!!

Anyway... my Mom devised a most clever way to both give my brother what he was promised, and punish me at the same time. We pulled into a spot at the drive-in and positioned the earphones at both windows. Mom and Chuck exchanged a glance and he got out and took Josh with him to get whatever he wanted at the concession stand.

Mom, stayed quiet in the front seat for a couple minutes while I waited for the other shoe to drop in the back.

"Shane, you have to learn when to control both your mouth and your energy. You are going to be punished tonight for your behaviour. Your punishment is that you do not get to watch the movie. I want you to turn around with you back to Chucks seat and keep your eyes out the back window."

"This is your brothers birthday, and you have already tried to ruin it. If you still want to go to Eliches on your birthday, you will sit quietly facing the back of the car through this movie."

At that, the hatchback opened and Chuck grabbed the pillows and blankets that were back there. He laid them across the roof and threw the pillows up too. He then lifted Josh up on the car roof where he watched the entire movie with his Milk Duds and bucket of popcorn.

I meanwhile, sat hunched in the foot well behind the drivers seat stewing and waiting. I was so mad that I was actually being punished, and couldn't imagine what was taking her so long to realize that I was being good now and should be allowed to watch. The longer I sat there the angrier I got. But not being bold enough to actually start more trouble and risk my birthday fun, I instead made hurumphing noises from the back seat. you know what I mean... when a kid wants to make sounds but doesn't want to say any particular words he goes... guhh.... uhh... jeeez... gah...hmph... But no matter what sounds I made they didn't acknowledge me.

They kept their eyes forward and focused on Josh, although I knew my Mom had at least one eye in my direction... I tried a couple times to position myself so I could see pieces of the screen, and inevitably she would look back and give me the "quit-it" eye and I would settle back down.

And that is how I watched one of the most anticipated movies of my 12th summer, hunched in a foot-well not being able to see anything, but being able to hear every single horrible written line. It was sublime torture. It was years before I actually got to watch that movie. And when I did, Mom walked through the room and said "Oh I remember that movie... Isn't it awful!"

"Not nearly as awful as the first time I sat through it... with only the sound..."

"What do you mean dear, what was wrong with the tv the first time you watched it?"

"You don't remember??? You used this movie to torture me!!! And you don't even remember!?!?!"

"When was this? Were you misbehaving?"

Sigh... my Mom... Such a clever woman.