Spanking: Creating Paranoid Antisocial Narcissists Since 50 BC

Kids are brats.

I do not mean all kids. That would be quite a leap to take to say EVERY kid is a brat. I am sure there are some kids that are quite lovely. For instance, Mozart wrote his first symphony at eight. He was far too busy to be a brat, though I would guess he did get a bit bratty if his sibling ever tried to touch his clavier.

For the most part, though, kids can be quite the little unpleasant spoiled terrible horrid holy terrors. It is in their nature. For the first few years of their lives, they have people to feed them, bathe them, dress them, and even walk for them. Then, gradually, adults start making them do those things themselves.

I guess it would be too much to expect these kids to avoid hitting, yelling, screaming, punching, spitting, biting, kicking, impaling, stabbing, licking, destroying, or otherwise bringing an end to any peace that may have set into the world around them. They are still learning to wipe themselves and to maneuver a spoon towards their mouth and away from their eye. How can anyone expect them to know not to do those things?

Still, though, parenting these kids can be tough. If you do not punish them, you are certain to raise the next Charles Manson. If you punish them too much, you are certain to raise the next Charles Manson. There are a great number of things you can do that would create another Charles Manson, so unless your goal is to raise a psychopath, there are a lot of difficult decisions for parents to make.

One such decision is spanking. Sometime along the timeline of history, people figured out that a great way to get children to stop being terrible is by hitting them, with an open hand or object, on their buttocks. It would not have to be done all that hard because just the fact that it was happening was enough for many kids.

Then many people decided it was bad. Shaming your children by making it difficult for them to sit down for extended periods of time was a form of child abuse.

I myself was spanked as a child. In fact, it happened more than once. Usually the situation would begin with my sister and me playing. Then we would start fighting.

“Stop fighting!” my mom would yell. She was always so unreasonable.

Nevertheless, we would do our best to curb our fighting. After all, we were nothing if not obedient and well-behaved children. This would last for five minutes before an all-out fight would begin with kicking and hitting. There would be words flying about like “stupid” and “dummy.” We were not very creative.

At this point, my mother would become fed up with the both of us. “THAT’S IT!” she would scream. We, of course, knew exactly what that meant. We were about to be spanked.

Over the course of my lifetime, I was spanked with a hand, a spoon, a spoon handle, and a fly swatter. As I grew older, the weaponry would grow in strength. Eventually, the spankings would cease. It tends to happen fairly quickly when your mom is five feet tall. No one wants to be spanking someone who is taller than them, although it would be a great punishment to walk into your kid’s college dorm room and spank him. He would definitely never forget to go to class again.

As these spankings happened, inevitably we would have a lot to say about it.

“That’s not fair!”

“Ow! You’re mean!”

“The way you are swinging that spoon at my buttocks seems to make it hurt quite a bit. Would you mind not doing that any longer? Thank you in advance for your consideration.”

Most of the time, though, we had one specific thing to say.

“Stop! You are so mean! I HATE YOU!”

Of course that was not fair. As a child, though, you hardly have the reasoning skills to say “I love you, but I find this situation to be very unpleasant.” That is because you are a stupid kid.

I never understood the whole hubbub about the whole spanking thing. Everyone I know was spanked at some point, but very few of them grew up to be criminals. I was pretty sure that any issue I had encountered in my life was completely unrelated to the slotted spoon that made contact with my butt after one of a dozen fights my sister and I would get into in a day. (Tip for anyone considering spanking: Slotted spoons are the best object for spanking. The slots allow air to pass through, creating a much firmer contact with the spankee. Plus, your kids will be too afraid of that spoon to come near anything you are cooking, leaving you to enjoy a solitary cooking experience in the kitchen.)

Now people are saying spanking is a huge issue. Kids are 7% more likely to be paranoid, narcissistic, antisocial basket cases if they were spanked. This would explain a lot about me. I constantly feel like someone is out to get me, I think I am the greatest human being to ever live, and I hate to be around people.

Apparently, that stinging in my butt reached all the way into my brain and ruined it.

I am not a parent. I get a great deal of joy every time I get to say that because it means I do not have to deal with things like this. I do not know whether spanking ruins kids or not. I have plenty of time to decide that before I have to worry about my child becoming a sociopath who walks the neighborhood at night killing squirrels for fun.

Maybe a better punishment would be a spray bottle. When cats get on the counter or start misbehaving, people say to spritz them. I do not know if this would work for kids, but it seems worth a shot.

Regardless, I understand why I got a spanking. I was once a kid and kids are brats.

Sorry to cut this short, but my wife just picked up a slotted spoon in the kitchen. I need to leave right now. That spoon is bad news.


12 thoughts on “Spanking: Creating Paranoid Antisocial Narcissists Since 50 BC

  1. I was spanked as a kid. I also spank my children. I think kids are worse today because of the lack of spankings. Kids these days are rude and mean and very disrespectful to their parents, and I think it’s because theres no discipline. I dislike going to the grocery store because it never fails that I hear a kid telling the parent what to do. But this is just my opinion. What do I know.


  2. Although in my opinion it’s abuse, the nine-year-old me is supremely jealous…I PRAYED to a supernatural being/God/Buddha/I don’t even know to get spanked on my bare bottom by my mum,(though I hated the thought of her doing it, too) or, much preferably, that she’d get a 25 year old tall, strong, handsome male babysitter who would spank me and look at me naked. Every single evening. Until midnight. Spanking me several times in a few hours. And it’d be our secret (cos my mum would’ve called the police if anyone hit me). Spanko from an early age 🙂


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