Moms Spoon

Considering it hurt so much at the time, you may think it odd that I remember my mom’s spanking spoon with such affection.

However, it taught me and my siblings a great deal about morals and love.

Mom had many spoons in her kitchen which were used for mixing and stirring –

However one with a particularly wide head stood on the counter on its own, standing up in a little ceramic pot.

This was the spanking spoon and on it, Mom had written a Bible reference.

It was Proverbs 23:13:

“Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish them with the rod, they will not die.”

Well, I can assure you there were times when I was over her knee that I felt I might die all right.

Moms’ Spanking spoon could burn a hole in your butt with absolutely no trouble, even through pants.

We were very rarely spanked without our undergarments on – you had to be really naughty for Mom to decide you’d earned that – but the sting that spoon could produce was more than capable of chastisement, believe me, even though a couple of layers of clothing.

In that respect, I think my sisters always felt they had a disadvantage to us boys when they were spanked.

I guess she felt that it wasn’t too easy to spank the girls through a skirt or dress, so when they were put over her knee, she turned up their nether clothing and whacked them over their panties.

These offered much less protection.

When we got it, we really feared the spoon.

It stung like you’d sat down on a wasps’ nest.

I guess because you were going to get a spanking once your clothing had been adjusted.

This was the 1950s and my mom commonly wore a soft cotton floral apron around the house most of the day, and I distinctly remember, the feeling of the warm fabric brushing against my tummy as I was spanked.

Mom was a highly efficient spanker and she showed no mercy when it came your time to be chastised.

Boy or girl, you were left with a very sore butt and in floods of tears.

However, there would be so much love shown after the spanking that in some ways you didn’t mind so much that you had been punished.

Mom would sit you on her lap and cuddle you close , stroking your hair and gently talking to calm you down.