Army of Mom

So this is how liberty dies ... with thunderous applause.


Cuttin' a switch

Took my eldest to the barber shop today to keep him from looking like the lead singer for Oasis for his school picture retakes tomorrow. Somehow we get on the topic if him wanting to beat his brother and sister for being loud and Pickle promises to get a flyswatter to whack the offending siblings.

Then the following exchange occurred:
Barber: When I was a kid, my mom used to make me climb the tree in the backyard to pick out my switch. I finally got smart one day and picked a limb with a lot of leaves on it. She told me no and went and picked one herself.
Pickle: What's a switch?
AoM: You're lucky not to know what one is. It is what your PaPa used to make me go pick out in the yard so he could use it to beat me.
Pickle: *puzzled look*
AoM: It's a tree limb. The idea is that your punishment is worse when you have to pick out your own switch. Most kids pick a little one because they think it will hurt less, but that isn't the case. The smaller the switch, the more it stings and can whip around.
Pickle: *horrified look*
AoM: But, I don't use switches with you kids. If I did, we wouldn't have anything left in our yard but stumps after a few months.
Barber: *snickering*


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