I had an old school grandma. Belts weren’t plentiful in our house, we lived in the country, and there were plenty of trees. So, switches were the handiest tool for discipline. For those new to the concept of switches. Switches are the devil. They vary in sizes and lengths. They are smaller branches of a tree and they have a short life once removed from the tree; but the short life is lethal. When waved in the air, they slice the air making sounds. There’s a stingy sensation when they strike your skin. Some are so flexible that whatever is struck gets wrapped around (probably why whipping is the name of the event). Trust me they are awful but effective. Show a country child a switch -minds, behaviors, and attitudes change. (I digressed but this is pertinent information).
Now, I was the first grandchild, niece, great-grandchild, great-niece; and then five years later my nemesis was born. My grandma’s first nephew and the Taurus feud began. In the old days we had what was called a home place. For us it was the property my great grandparents purchased, and when they died my grandma became the Matriarch. She lived in the house practically her entire life. And she welcomed a constant flow of her siblings with families, her children, and anyone else who needed a place to call home. Therefore, every Summer my nemesis would surely arrive. And we fought all Summer long.
My nemesis was the devil. Okay, maybe not the devil but surely a thorn in my side. One day nemesis rolled down the stairs, jumps up and runs across the yard screaming bloody murder. My grandma ran to nemesis rescue. She returned to the house extremely angry with me. Nemesis had concocted a wild story that ended with me first pleading for my life, losing my plea, and receiving several lashes with a switch. While nemesis laughed. I was not happy!
I was so unhappy that I spotted nemesis at the top of the steps on another day and pushed. (I need to explain these stairs. These were concrete stairs. Nothing like the forgiving, I can bend a little under your weight, wood stairs. These stairs were solid. Solid enough that after years of injuries, they were destroyed, and replaced with wood.) There nemesis laid at the bottom of the stairs, back scarred, bloody, screaming yet motionless. Grandma ran to the rescue, escorted nemesis in the house, bandaged, and placed nemesis in the bed. And I received more lashes with the switch. We both were crying this time.
By now you are saying, WRONG TITLE. But it’s the correct title. Before my second encounter with the switch. My grandma explained that she understood my angry with the first event, because nemesis confessed to lying. But I injured nemesis and she could not allow me to go unpunished. She was bothered by her decision to punish and told her I understood. I promised her that I had always and would always tell her the truth; and she promised to listen. It was the best whipping ever because it established a bond between my grandma and me. She also never whipped me again!
(By the way, nemesis is still a thorn in my side. We finally outgrew fighting each other and switched to terrorizing others… lol.)
