But, at least in my experience, most threats were just empty for small kids. Promises of punishment to come. Which more often than not weren't followed up on.
One of the dumbest threats I was ever faced with was this old nugget of goofiness: "You're gonna eat that and you're gonna like it!"
Well, no sir, no thanks, there's just absolutely no way in Hell I'm ever going to eat those lima beans and it'll be a colder day in Hell when and if I ever like them. Of course this is what I wanted to tell my dad as we sat in front of those damned lima beans around the kitchen table in many a stand-off. But I didn't dare tell him that that even if I knew the sentiment was 100% true.
I've yet to meet anyone who likes lima beans. If you look up a definition of "mealy," I'm sure there's a drawing of a lima bean accompanying them. And the taste is somewhere between rancid baby food and aspirin. To this day, I still won't touch a lima bean. And NO ONE HAS MADE ME LIKE THEM YET.
Combine a child's fiercely independent, stubborn streak with every child's willingness to push boundaries and you have a no-win situation. Our many endless kitchen table showdowns either ended in my conceding to eat two spoonfuls and make a huge production out of it or my dad would get sick of it and just go to bed.
My point is it was a stupid threat that was destined to fail on many levels. There was truly no way it could have been enforced. And I knew it. So many threats are like that.
Another threat was one of my mom's favorites: "Just wait 'til your father gets home!" Now while this threat did carry the not-so-veiled promise of a spanking to come (which my dad carried out with no regret and possibly a little glee), what it told us kids was Mom wasn't going to follow through with a punishment of her own, instead choosing to throw the onus on Bad Parent while she played Good Parent.
How did that work in our favor? Great! It meant we had time to show our angelic side to soften Mom up and stop her from tattling. If that didn't work, we could plead. "Please, Mom, don't tell Dad. I'm sorry, so sorry, I'll never do it again, please don't..." And finally, when all else had failed, you pulled out another bit of sass. This sounds counterintuitive to your survival, but hear me out. Moms always leaven their spanking.
"This hurts me more than it hurts you," she'd say while swatting my butt with an open hand. And I think she was right, too. As she cried, I pulled out the crocodile tears and cried alongside her, knowing that I was getting off easy with a slight paddle as opposed to Dad's go-for-it gusto.
"You're gonna get in big trouble, young man!" Another hollow threat. Even as children, we knew this was a stalling tactic. Either we get in big trouble or we don't. But usually this was leveled at me while I was misbehaving in a store where my mom didn't want to punish me in public. By the time we'd leave the store (hours in fabric shops, usually), the threat had dissipated.
Finally, one of my favorites: "Don't make me come back there!" We three boys would be crammed into the back seat usually giggling over that one. Because where was this threat issued? While we were careening down a highway, usually in a hurry to get somewhere. No way was Dad gonna climb over the seat, leave the car to drive on its own, and deliver fierce and swift justice. However, there was one thing we didn't count on...Dad would wildly flail one hand backward, attempting to swat the troublemaker in question. Usually his aim was bad. So it was always strategically important to sit behind him where he couldn't reach you. Or the far side. The poor middle seat generally took the most friendly fire.
Years later, I saw an acquaintance threatening his bratty kid with a "kinder, gentler approach." While his little terror was running over coffee tables and attacking adults--the usual future serial killer behavior--the dad would raise his voice slightly and start counting, "onnnnnnne...twoooooo...threeeeee..." Didn't do a DAMN thing to change the lil' monster's behavior as he ran rampant throughout the party. The kinder, gentler approach seemed to be a step backward.
What am I saying? Parents, either punish your kids or don't. Your choice. But programming them to realize you're just full of hollow threats ain't doing you or your little darlings any good. They know. Oh, yes they do.
Honestly, I should hold seminars for grade school kids in how to take control of their parents. You're welcome!
Speaking of brats, there are three (literally!) murderous tykes on the loose in my horror novella, "Halloweenie Roast," available in my collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley. Maybe it'll make you parents start doing some punishing before it's too late! Get this edumacational tract right here!
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