A couple of days ago, in my anger I was breaking a wooden spoon. Today my wife asked me if I saw the spoon and I told her that I broke it. She wasn’t very angry but she said that it was from her mother. Then I told her that I make a new spoon, so I went to the workshop and after it was finished I showed it and she was happy with the result. How ever, i slapped it very lightly on my bum and surprise surprise – it broke in two pieces. I was really surprised because it broke against the grain which is kind of unusual. Another wired thing i noticed while I was cutting the wood earlier on my circular saw was…….that there were some sparks flying at the very end of the cutting job and normal only cutting of harder Materials than wood can generate sparks. The wood was from a very old beam of a Jack wood and maybe there was a nail somewhere inside but I didn’t see anything like that after the cut…?
How ever the story reminded me of my mom breaking a wooden cooking spoon on my bum when I was a kid. I still remember the punishment, which is something like 40 yrs ago, but I don’t know what I got the beating for. I remember that I didn’t cry, I believe this time i was even laughting, – in fact i never cried for all the beatings, which I usually got from my father. He used to take either a leather belt or his House shoes.
As kids, my brother an I were fighting very often during the day and my mom told my father in the evening about our missbehaviour. It was almost like a daily deja vue
“Guido, Thomas, ab ins Schlafzimmer, Hose runter”…….
……und dann gab es in der Regel 10 schlaege auf den nackten Allerwertesten. Mein grosser Bruder weinte immer, ich nie
Und die Moral von der Geschichte ist……