Punishments you will never forget

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

or perhaps never get over.

When I was 12 or 13, I lied to my parents about the score I got on a Math test (I always sucked at math), telling them I got “around a 70” when really I got a FORTY SEVEN.

I crumpled up the test and hid it in my drawer and my mom of course, found it.

My punishment:

NO halloween party (with costume I’d worked on for a WEEK) and…wait for it:
No trick or treating. :eek:

She might as well have shot me in the face.

What are some alternative punishments or penalties you suffered that really made an impression?

2

I was making a C in English mid year and the peeps cancelled my Spring ski trip. That one hurt.

3

I was beaten to within an inch of my life with a leather golf bag strap for no reason at all*.

*[SUB]that’s my story, and I’m stickin’ with it.[/sub]

4

When I was about 4 I kicked my grandparents dog. Suddenly I was raised in the air by one arm and spanked on the butt once. I have never kicked another dog and I never will. The shame of making my beloved grandfather so angry that he actually spanked me was immense.

5

Bein chained to the floor down in the basement for 7 years, the only times I was unchained and allowed out was to go to school.

And of course, there were the obligatory floggings about the head and shoulders with a wet haddock.

6

I don’t believe you.

7

When I was in the first grade, we had some worksheets to do before some of the bigger kids came to our classroom to do a play. I rushed to finish my worksheet, but I didn’t read the directions, so I did it wrong. So when the play was performed, I had to stand out in the hallway.

It’s 42 years later, and I’m still bitter about it. OK, not bitter, but I did learn to follow directions.

[sub]Didn’t wanna see that stupid play anyway…[/sub]

8

12 years old, and Mom gave me a spanking b/c she insisted I had lost her leather gloves and was lying about it. (I liked to borrow them to go get the mail, along with her Harve Benard coat, and pretend I was a grand and fabulous lady.)

I swore throughout that I hadn’t lost them, that I hadn’t even worn them that day, but she didn’t buy it.

Shortly after The Punishment, she found them herself, underneath a pile of laundry she had put over them, in the exact spot she had left them.

Spanking may not be considered an “alternative punishment,” but getting a spanking for something I didn’t do certainly “made an impression.”
She never apologized, by the way. My mom’s got a very short memory for anything that could make her look bad.

:smiley:

9

It was my brothers punishment but it made me behave. two of my older brothers went into a neighbors hen house and had an egg fight. My father not only made them pay for the eggs, he made them clean the neighbor’s chicken coops. All five of them, all summer long. Chicken shit in august= not fun.

10

Ah, you had a basement, did you! Well, you were lucky…

11

Oooh! Oooh! I’m gonna post mine before reading about everyone else’s. Great subject, jarbabyj!

5th Grade. My teacher’s name was Mr. Williams. He was an incredibly intelligent man who enforced discipline fairly but strictly. I had these two “friends” (the quotation marks are because they really treated me like crap but I was so naieve I thought any attention was good attention) named Gina and Karen. We were all in the girl’s bathroom when they started writing graffiti all over the walls with their pencils. They dared me to, so I wrote two words (can’t remember what they were). Somehow Mr. Williams found out that I wrote on the wall but didn’t find out about Gina and Karen. Mr. Williams made me wash all of the walls in the girl’s bathroom after school. I’ll never forget it because I was so embarrassed about what I did that I cried and so angry that the other two didn’t get in trouble. It was terrible to have Mr. Williams so disappointed with me.

12

When I was about six, my mom told me I couldn’t go outside and play with my friend Tommy. I went out anyway and headed for Tommy’s house, four houses away. My mom went out the back door, cut a switch from the peach tree and went to Tommy’s via the alley. Meeting me at Tommy’s, she started beating me with the switch and yelling at me to get home. I couldn’t outrun her and she beat me with that switch all the way home. I had cuts and welts all over. Yep, she was pretty brutal. This was only one of a lot of punishments that I won’t ever forget and probably never forgive.

13

When I was about 6 and my brother was 8 we shared a bedroom. One night while Father was out at a late meeting and we were tucked up in our beds, Brother and I began making farting noises using the “heels of hands over lips and blow” method. Small fairly quiet ones at first, then as we started getting more and more out of control they got louder and longer and we began giggling and generally making a ruckus. Mother did give several warnings of dire consequences should we not cease and desist, and we would stop for a minute only to be overcome and start back in again. Finally Mother came roaring into the room and yanked us both from our beds. She dragged us downstairs and planted us in opposite corners of the living room, yelling “You think it’s so funny? You’re going to stand there making those noises until your father gets home!” Mother didn’t get mad very often so we were scared. Blubbering like, well, like kids. After a couple minutes of blubbering she came in and said she didn’t hear the noises we thought were so funny not so long ago and we’d better start up now. So we’re standing there in our jammies in opposite corners of the living room, tears streaming down our faces, struggling to make fart noises with our faces and hands. Well of course once we got going we started giggling again. Why Mother didn’t abort the punishment at that point I’ll never know. Eventually, in walks Father, home from a long day of labor, to his children in their jammies, farting away like little fiends, shrieking with laughter with tear-stained faces.

Worst. Punishment. Ever.

To this day the incident comes up whenever the four of us are together and to this day Mother can’t (or won’t) explain why she thought this would be an effective punishment or why she didn’t stop it when it became clear it was useless.

14

Soap in the mouth . . . liquid soap even (we were out of bar soap) . . . never again did I talk back to my grandmother. Never again. :wink:

Actually, I think the worst was the one and only time my grandfather punished me. I was maybe 7, and thought I’d be “cute” and snap him in the butt with a towel (he was clothed, so it wouldn’t’ve hurt). He turned around at just the wrong instant and I, being 7, had misjudged my angle so the towel-end was flying toward his face. He swatted me on the butt (once) and sent me to bed 'til my grandmother got home. I was SO upset that I’d made my beloved grandpa angry; he forgave me though & we were buddies again by suppertime.

15

Let me first state that I was a pretty good teenager. I didn’t drink, smoke, do drugs, fool around, skip school, break stuff, steal stuff, sell stolen stuff, beat people up, launder money, commit insurance fraud…nothing like that. The worst things I did were sass back to my parents and procrastinate on my homework.

Let me next state that I had had my face slapped and been hit with things many times, and no physical punishment ever hurt as much as this did:

I don’t remember the crime, but the punishment was having the door of my room taken off its hinges.

To make things worse, my dad wouldn’t give it back to me unless I asked (begged, in my mind) him for it.
I was a very private person, and my room was like my sanctuary, and to have my privacy taken away like that was really painful. (I didn’t have a TV or phone or car or late curfew or anything else they could take away, so I guess my parents felt that my room was their only point of leverage.) And I know that I hadn’t done anything really serious to warrant this kind of punishment – I wasn’t hiding drugs in my room or anything.

Shoot, now I’m upset.

16

It’s not so much the punishment I’ll never forget–I was grounded for probably an aggregate total of seven years between the ages of 10 and 18–it’s the Utter Dirty Pool of it all.

When I was about 12, my grandfather owned a janitorial business. One of his workers quit or was fired or something, and he was shortstaffed, so my mom offered to do the cleaning for one of his clients (a small office building), and JOY of JOYS! I got to help her. (I don’t know if she got paid or not, but I sure as hell didn’t.)

I hated, hated, hated it (and now, thinking back to the fact that those people were drinking out of coffee cups that NEVAH got washed–which was my job, along with vacuuming up the dead crickets in the conference room–I sucked at it, too), so my mom told me that on ‘X’ date in the future (let’s say March 31) I could quit if I wanted to. She probably figured that by then my grandfather would have found a replacement, and it wouldn’t matter.

But that didn’t happen.

So there I was, counting the days until March 31 . . . and when it came, I gleefully informed my mother that I would not be working with her anymore.

So she grounded me.

Again, no big deal, like I said, I was grounded all the damn time anyway (for relatively small infractions)–so I took my lumps, because unfair as they were, they were still better than those dead crickets . . .

But then.

My damn Social Studies teacher assigned us group projects, on which we would be required to work outside of school hours. So my group agreed to meet at this girl Jennifer’s house one Saturday . . .

. . . and I was forbidden to go, because I was grounded. I was told that I’d just have to do my part of the project separately, which was impossible because it involved a dance which we were to choreograph and rehearse.

So I had to start cleaning that damn building with my mother again, just to get UNgrounded so that I could do my homework.

Luckily, my grandfather finally found a replacement a couple of weeks later . . .

But to this day my sister and I call my mother The Queen of Dirty Pool.

I am scarred, I tell you.

17

Otto, that’s the best story ever!

I want to see it in a movie.

And Sionach, my cousin got a mouthful of Head-N-Shoulders shampoo once, for calling me the N-word.

She’s never had a problem with tongue-dandruff since. :smiley:

18

I’m so completely out of place in this thread… I’ve never been punished for anything. Not that I haven’t been yelled at and screamed at and suchlike.

In fact, the only time I’ve ever been punished was a couple of weeks ago. They took my modem away.

sob

The next day, they forgot and let me take it back.

Sad, I know.

19

Well I have always had a “potty mouth” and frequently had my mouth washed out with soap. To this day, I can’t eat fresh ginger because it tastes like Ivory soap!!

But the most inventive punishment?

I’m 16 - my curfew is 11 pm. I came in at 12:30, and no I didn’t call. After reading me the riot act, Mom said that I owed her 1 1/2 hours and she was taking it out of the next curfew - so I should be home at 9:30. Yeah, right!

When I came home at 11 pm, I found all the furniture from my room methodically set up in the front yard. I wasn’t allowed inside until morning. She said the “live under this roof, abide by my rules” and meant it!

20

My parents were “children of the 70s” and never, EVER hit us or threatened to hit us (they preferred guilt trips). Except for this one time when I was 12-13…

My mom told me to go to my room, and I did, but I stood in the doorway and got into a screaming match with her (and I still don’t remember what it was about). And she slapped me. I don’t mean a full-on, palm-print-leaving, “SHUT UP, DAMN YOU!!” kind of slap. I mean she hit my cheek with about as much force as you would use to slap a 2-year-old’s hand.

And I shut up, turned around, and sat on my bed.

I was STUNNED.

Never before or never again did I make my mom that mad.