Monday, June 02, 2008
Did you get your ass whooped a lot as a kid? I did.
I actually thought about this last night and found myself laughing with much amusement. I hated daddy's leather belts. One whip of that on my backside or thighs would have me branded for the next couple of days. Long, rectangular bruise. Sometimes one, sometimes a few more. Depending on how naughty I was on that day. Mom used the toilet brush on me once. I pissed her off while she was cleaning the toilet, and so she ran out of the bathroom and hit me with it. The bristles of the brush left me with a rather unique polka-dot knee for a good week. I was a smart kid during my primary school years. I'd always be in the Top 3 of the class, and being 5th place already meant that I did rather badly. In fifth grade once, I came home and told mom I was in the 25th place out of a class of 45. Mom threw my schoolbag out of the gate and told me that if I didn't want to study, my books should all be gone. I picked up my books and bag with tears streaming down my cheeks. Damn drama I tell you! The feather duster / cane is common. We got that too. Mom would be chasing us. And I used to love running around the dining table, yes, like literally going round and round the dining table, and mom will be hot on my ass with the cane. Of course I was faster than her. When she cannot get me, in frustration, will throw whatever she can get her hands on. Mom even had a home-made cane. Her good friend (we call her Auntie Lim) gave her a pot of bamboo once. She skinned a single shoot/stalk and then used that as cane. On one sticky, hot afternoon many moons ago, mom was as usual, helping me with homework. It was Math if I recall correctly. Numbers and me got off on the wrong foot from the start. On that particular afternoon, mom must be on the verge of yanking her hair out of her head, and the 2B pencil came down on my thighs. The tip of the lead broke under my skin and it stayed there for a few years actually. Then I forgot about it. Looked for it 2 nights ago, disappeared. Either the lead dissolved. Or my flesh, erm, thickened. Then there was the lidi broom. Remember this? Well, this weapon taught me about 'strength in numbers'. One lidi stick, easily snapped into half. But bulk them like that, you're in for some serious ass whooping.
We always had an altar at home to pray to our ancestors, and also to the deity Guan Yin. When our mistakes were so grave that only God could help us, mom and dad would make us kneel in front of Guan Yin. My last 'encounter' with Guan Yin was 10 years ago. Mom found cigarettes in my bag.
There were four of us, all girls. But we sure can fight. Oh my god, our fights are N.O.T.O.R.I.O.U.S. Daph and I were fighting once, probably on the verge of killing each other, so mom decided to lend her assistance. She came out of the kitchen with 2 knives, presented us with it, and told us to yup - you guessed it - kill each other.
True, to some of you these may sound like horror stories. But things were different then. We were seriously naughty! Heh.
Sure, all of us turned out OK. And mom's favourite come back to this would be "If I didn't beat you back then, god knows what you would all become!"
What did you get?
Posted by Doreen at 2:08 pm