Growing up I always hated spankings. Other discipline measures could be usually be ignored but it is hard to ignore the impact of a wooden spoon on one’s rear. Real hard. And I vowed, like most children that I would never spank my kids.

These were my thoughts as I watched three kids play tag around tables and diners while their mom tried to ignore their antics.

I finally put down the book I had been trying to read. This had gone on long enough.

“Hey lady, beat your goddamned kids!” I yelled.

The whole restaurant fell silent. Everybody was watching us.

We were now united in our embarrassment.

Somewhere off to my left, someone began to clap. Slowly more people joined until it was applause. All of these strangers were applauding me for doing what they themselves were afraid to do.

The lady, red-faced, gathered up her children and bustled them out the door. Her backwards glare told me that everything was my fault.

Silently, I did what I never thought I’d do and thanked my parents for spanking me.