As I’ve said a few times, I really didn’t get ‘punished’ very often growing up. I made sure and stayed out of trouble and my nana made sure to not spank me. I got more spanks from birthdays than anything else.
On the other hand, I was also a bit of a know it all. (As opposed to now when I am still a know it all but I follow it up by ACTUALLY knowing it all. :P) I started on computers when I was 2 which was a feat since computers weren’t in even 10% of homes at that point. Basically anything with electronics came naturally to me. I could program VCR’s without the instructions at 5. (It wasn’t so easy when I was younger to record your favorite show or even get the clock to stop flashing 12.) One of the first VCR’s we ever had my nana had the instructions out trying to get the clock set and I had already figured out what to do. I tried to be helpful? In my mind I was just being helpful but she was frustrated that a 5 year old could program the clock that she couldn’t and snapped at me. Eventually she threw the remote at me and told me to do it if I was so smart.
So I did it because I WAS so smart.
Then there was the camera. Nana had gotten a Kodak Disc Camera. That may sound advanced but it’s not the kind of disc you’re thinking. Nana, though, was having trouble doing SOMETHING on it. I can’t even tell you what that could be because looking back there are like no options on this thing and you really just stick the film in and shoot. But that was the way it was then. Technology was still a baby learning how to crawl and typewriters were more common than word processors which is what were used in offices before computers were common and had their own word processors built in. (Like before LOTUS 1-2-3 even oooohhhh)
Whatever she was having a problem with I, of course, had a solution.
That day we were all sitting around the dining room table. It was a round table and she was to my right and papa was to my left. Another thing about those days was that people would stay in the same room because there was nothing to do that wasn’t in whatever room we were in. Only one TV, an atari if you were lucky, big bulky radios with 8-tracks and turntables, and books made of paper. Heck, people even read newspapers on actual paper that got delivered to a box next to the mailbox every morning. It was a crazy time. I’m not sure how we survived.
So she was cussing, as usual, and getting frustrated. So electronics whiz kid to the rescue! I reached my hand in and said, “I think you do…”
Like some crazed superhero her hand quickly came across my face and I sat there too stunned to talk. My hand holding the ever reddening spot on my face I just stared at her as she just continued working with the camera.
It seemed like forever but it was probably a second or two before I turned to my left, still grasping my face, and looked at my papa who simply shrugged and said, “Well, you shouldn’t have tried to tell her what to do.”
It’s lessons like this that kids don’t get anymore which leads to the lack of respect towards women and mothers, in my mind. I wasn’t abused and it wasn’t common but it was a great lesson. No cops were involved and I didn’t end up in therapy… not for that anyway! 😀