arndt@lymph.DEC (02/13/85)
Ken:
I was so glad to read your views on spanking in your recent posting.
At last I feel that I can come out of the closet. I had thought that perhaps
I was the only one who felt this way. I reference your statements about why
one should strike a child on the bum. When you said one benefit was that it
wasn't necessary to LOOK at the child when so doing I opened the closet door.
You see, I have long hated to look my children in the eye when taking them to
task for their infractions. I could see their little minds at work wrecking
vengence upon me. In my mind's eye I could see little Ken pushing off the
ice floe upon which my wheel chair sits and launching it out into the icy
depths. I don't want them to take it personal.
Soooo. I have developed the 'Kindness Box'. I'll send you the plans if you
want. It's easy to build over a weekend. Let me describe it to you. It is
a three sided box big enough to fit the child into and it hinges on the wall
on one side. The top is fitted with a hole through which a broom stick fits.
(I got the idea while watching an educational show on old Colonial life.
From a butter maker.) When it gets to be 'that time' just swing the box away
from the wall and fit the child inside and swing the box back against the wall.
Now he can't see or be seen. Work the broom stick up and down vigorously a
few times (depending upon the infraction) and hey presto! Disipline without
eye contact. I have placed one of my boxing gloves on the end of the broom
stick inside the box to prevent indentations that might be hard to explain.
I really feel better about the whole process of disipline. I know I have to do
it but it is not a pleasant task. I've explained it all to them and I'm sure
they don't blame me because with the 'Kindness Box' it is all so impersonal.
There's just one thing I'd like to ask you about. Are you SURE that just
because there is no eye contact during disipline they don't hold it against
you? I mean, in my case, . . . well, I have . . . concerns. For example,
last night I went down to the kitchen to fix myself a cup of tea and when I
opened the cabinet a cascade of pots and pans and sharp edged toys hit me!
It's just a freak accident like they swear, right?
Then why is it I have an awful foreboding about going down to the cellar???
Let me know what you think, buddy.
Concerned in New Hampshire,
Ken Arndt