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My parents used "creative" spoons from the kitchen as the spanking spoon. Pretty painful items. And then they would just use them, cook and serve with them. Creepy.
I lived in a new subdivision where many lots were not built out yet and there were many mature trees and thick forested areas. My mom banished me to one of these wooded areas at night and came back for me after 2 hours or so. I was eight years old at the time. haha.
You left out the worst part about the switching -- having to go get your own switch. You had to be so precise in picking because you wanted to minimize the pain, but you knew if it wasn't satisfactory, dad would keep sending you back until he was satisfied and then you got a double switching for not getting a good one the first time.
... I saw my cousin get a beating from her dad for smoking at 14 when he smoked like a chimney himself.
Brings back memories of the expression, "Do as I say, not as I do."
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