She replied, "Baby, not now, but if you are a good girl maybe Santa will bring it to you." "But Mama, I want that telephone right now." Her eyes narrowed and her hand tightened on mine. "Becky, you can’t have that telephone today, but if you misbehave you can have a spanking."
By now we were standing in the long Holiday line in the Layaway Department, and I figure it was now or never. I lay down on the ground and began screaming, "I want that telephone," over and over again. Weary Christmas shoppers looked as my mother calmly said, "Becky, you better get up by the count of three or else. One…Two…Three."
Nothing. I was still in full tantrum. So then she lay down beside me on the floor, and began kicking and screaming, "I want a new car, I want a new house, I want some jewelry, I want…" Shocked, I stood up.
"Mama, stop. Mama get up," I tearfully pleaded.
She stood, and brushed herself off. At first stunned, the others waiting in line began to sporadically clap, and before I knew it they were cheering and laughing and patting my mother on her back. She blushed and took a little bow and the next thirty minutes in line was pure misery for me as various parents leaving the Layaway Department, shake their heads at me and say with a smile, "Your mom got you good. I bet you’ll never try that again."
And I didn’t, because it left a lasting mental picture more effective then any physical mark.
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