Trip to Mommy Insanity Land. Pack the Tabasco?
By Kathryn (Kat) Hurst
Kathryn.hurst@yahoo.com / http://www.linkedin.com/in/kathurst
This morning on a national TV show I saw a story about a woman who punished her son by making him drink Tabasco. The ordeal was video taped by his sister so we witnessed firsthand the child choking on hot sauce while his mother scolded him for doing something we assume was pretty heinous. (I never caught exactly what the crime was. If you saw this newscast and know, please email me.)
The TV talk show hosts were obviously disturbed by this form of punishment. The show’s psychological experts clearly agreed; this type of retribution was extreme and can leave physical and mental scars. It seems the show’s audience wasn’t as disturbed. In fact, 30% of the viewing audience felt forced Tabasco drinking was an OK form of punishment. Hmm. Really?
I side with the experts on this one. I can’t see giving my “child” (cat = Toby) Tabasco, no matter how severe the crime. But then again, he doesn’t destroy things, lie to me, or forget to do his homework, so I can’t say I’ve ever visited Mommy Insanity Land. His sister DID tear up our leather club chair. That took me to a mental place I hadn’t visited before… but we found her a scratching post and so a crisis was averted.
My hubby and I have tried to be calm, fair parents. Timeouts are commonly used instead of physical or mental tactics. This approach seems to work well when one cat is “playing” too rough. It’s easy to tell when things have gone too far because you hear thump! thump! thump! from tails and body parts hitting the floor, and of course, there is hissing and screaming. Each participant is herded into a separate space until the tails de-poof. Friends who have witnessed a Hurst household timeout session think it’s funny how the babies immediately respond and retreat to neutral corners. Isn’t that what they should do?
I of course was a perfect child and needed little correction (clearing my throat), except for this one time (clearing my throat again).
It was the night before Christmas, and my twin brother and I simply could not wait another eight hours to open the gifts under the tree. (To this day I am still very impatient. On the other hand, folks say my husband Steve is the most patient man in the world. Hmm.)
My brother and I decided to peak at all our gifts that night. My parents didn’t think that was such a hot idea. My dad’s belt came out after catching us tearing back the wrapping paper. I remember him saying, “This is going to hurt me more than you.” It probably did. I got one very soft swipe across the leg. Scared the heck out of me. Didn’t hurt a bit, but I wailed like a newborn. And well, it made an impression on me for sure. Every time I hear a story about spankings, timeouts, and other child punishments, I think of my Christmas story.
I wonder, would the Bajesus been scared out of me that day if the Tabasco came out instead of the belt? And, would I now be terrified of chicken wings at Super Bowl parties? I’m not afraid of belts, although the word “switch” frightens me a bit.
How do you correct your child ─ furry, or of the other skin type? Is Tabasco OK to use while visiting Insanity Land, or should it be saved for the cheese nachos?
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