Broom stick was always the worst, while cloth hanger was the softest. But most of the time, the beating was done with a broom stick because it was always within my mom's reach. Or may be she wore it by her side.

I don't blame her for breaking all those broom sticks against my legs... I was a handful. But at the time of getting hit on my legs with sweeshing broom stick, I really hated my mom. I guess what my mom lacked was the kind of explaining that was required to not make me wonder why the hell I was getting hit on my legs with the broom stick. And what good it could possibly do for me.

Today, my mom will disagree that she didn't explain enough. She'll say it was I who didn't pay attention while she was lecturing. Well, that's true too.

So not to make my son fall asleep while I was lecturing, I made it short and precise. In fact, I practiced my speach over and over again in my head before I did the real thing.

I figure, if I could make my son understand clearly what he had done wrong, and why it was necessary to hit him with the cane, which by the way was made from a hollow metal stick of a laundry hanger, I thought he would learn something and not be a naughty boy again.

You see, the teacher from the kindergarden had told my wife, that my son had hit other kids in the classroom. She said whenever my son was in bad mood, he would punch and kick anyone who came near him.

It wasn't the first time... The first time, my wife said she reprimanded Sey gravely, and Sey had understood and repented. So I didn't interfere. But this time, I figure I had to do something because obviously my wife's lecturing didn't work. After long and hard thoughts, I decided it was time to teach my son the traditional way... with a stick.

I came home, and after washing my face and my hands, I brought the cane and put it on the bed, where Sey was sitting with smiling face. I sat him down in front of me, and asked him,

"Did you hit your friends at school today?"

"Yes. I did." Sey answered with a smile.

I was glad my son had admitted so easily. At least he wasn't a liar.

"Why did you hit your friends?"

Sey didn't answer that, but the smile had disappeared from his face.

"Were your friends hurt?"

"Yes, they were hurt..."

"How would you like it if  they hit you and you were hurt?"

"I don't want to be hurt..."

"Then you shouldn't hurt others, should you?"

"..."

By now, my son was almost crying... I was trying my best not to burst out laughing though.

"Sey, I will hit you with this cane, so you will know what it means to be hurt."

"No daddy... I won't hit my friends again... don't hit me..."

"Sorry, Sey. When you do something, there's always consequences which follows your action. In this case, the consequence is this. You can do whatever you want, but you have to be responsible for your actions. Put your hands out like this."

I grabbed his tiny hands and opened his palm, facing up. He shrugged and tried to hug me. I grabbed him firmly and sat him down, insisting he hold out his hand by himself. I didn't want to force him to accept the hit. I wanted him to accept it by himself.

And I was so happy when my son put out his small hands... He was a MAN!

'Brave boy!'

I shouted in my head. And firmly, I struck three times on his open palms.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Sey didn't even flinch. He really was a brave one.

After the last hit, I asked him,

"Did it hurt?"

"No."

LOL.... I laughed in my head. May be he was trying to put on a brave show. May be it really didn't hurt at all. But I had to make sure, so I told him,

"This time, I'm only hitting you softly. But if the teachers tell me you hit your friends again, "

I stopped in the middle of the scentence, and I hit hard on the pillow with the stick, making a loud bang. This time Sey did flinch a bit.

"I'll hit you like this. Understood?"

"Understood. Can we play now?"

So there goes my FIRST experience with punishing my son by hitting... I don't know if it was the right thing to do, but at least my son was OK with it.

Now I really hope this had taught him a lesson and he will not hit his friends in the kindergarden. Let's see if it worked...