"Get out of there right now or you'll be punished and you can forget about going to the Fair or going to Joey's party, and then you won't get to bring that new Nintendo game you got from your dad's girlfriend, or wear the baseball hat you got after Grandpa's surgery. I said get out right now! I mean it! I'm counting to three. 1....2.....2 and a half... I mean it Junior! If I get to three, you're busted. 2 and three quarters...!"
When my daughter was little, she knew better. If she gave me grief in a public place, I'd give her one look, and if it continued, she got yanked into the nearest dressing room/bathroom/hallway and spanked, then we left and she knew she'd be punished when we got home. Public manners was something she caught on to pretty quickly.
But kids are different now than we were. I would have had my butt in a sling if I talked back to my parents...or anyone else's parents for that matter...those were the days when the neighbors could beat you too, then send you home and call your parents so you'd get it again when you got home!
Makes for some good writing filler, doesn't it? :))
Got a scene worked last night that's been eating me up... after 2 hours of cleaning white chalky drywall mud dust from everything. My husband decided the hand-sanding wasn't good enough so he hooked up his electric sander and went at it.
It looked like someone took a bag of cocaine and threw it in the air. You couldn't see through it. It. Covered. Everything. My black and white dog went snowy.
We won't be doing that again.