|
I used to get my ass beat by my mom and grandmom/grandfather constantly when I was a child until I was about 9 when I watched my mom shoot my older brother's dad in the vitals, leave him lying on the ground bleeding in the front yard, and walk into the house to call the cops on herself. She then sat down at the kitchen table, and drank a cup of coffee while she waited. F'n EPIC. Needless to say I never had my ass whipped again.
The point of that childhood memory is that fear is a beautiful thing to teach children with.
|