... Dad sent me downtown with the cash to pay the electric bill. Instead of paying the bill, I used the money to buy tickets for a new truck that was being raffled off. When I arrived at home with the tickets and explained what I had done, Dad beat my ass. The next morning, there was a brand new truck sitting in the driveway. We all hugged each other and cried. Especially when we learned that the new truck was from the electric company and was there to turn off our power. Dad beat my ass again.

That’s funny

Hahaha!

LOL

Not sure I'd have survived that.....

LOL

LOL
Thats a good one

Hey, a good ass whooping goes a long way to building character

I don’t get it

next





I live 8 miles away. No deer camp for me

Everyone needs an ass whooping

That's funny

When I was a boy Noah was just unloading the Ark.
Not enough animals around to hunt then, but a few
months later, rabbit hunting was pretty good.

ya!

GWB

my Grand Pa Jesse was born in the late 1800's.

He would tell the story about how he and a friend got cought by his dad. IIRC they were smoking corn silk. Anywho, he had a bunch of "Strike anywhere" matches in his back pocket. His dad had him by the arm and was strapping him with his belt when one then more matches lit. Did not take long and his britches was smokin'.
That was a funny story to me when I wasa yonker!

ya!

GWB

So much for a story with a happy ending 😜.

I only ever got one paddling in school . 7th grade. Shop teacher had made a paddle with a baseball bat handle, about 5"wide , 18"long paddle part with a bunch of holes drilled it in. You were sent to the men's lounge which was their smoke room.

He told you how many whacks you were to get, and bend down and grab your ankles. If you stood up or jumped around that was an extra whack.

I had five coming and it took everything I had not to move after three. Each whack would lift you up on your toes.Once was all it took and I toed the line after that