by Beth Goodman

Disclaimers: None whatsoever. Oh, maybe a spew alert.

Feedback is always welcome: bethgoodman@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2004 by Beth Goodman. All Rights Reserved.

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My entire life, Granny was five-foot-nothin' and weighed a hundred-and-nothin' but she could strike fear in the hearts of battle hardened warriors. It wasn't that she was mean spirited or physically threatening, it was that she knew the great Words of Doom. <insert thunder and evil laughter here…>

You had to work pretty hard to get into trouble with Granny (that is to have her be angry with you, it was actually very easy to get into trouble with her as an accomplice.) I distinctly remember the last spanking she ever gave me - I was 13, and said "I'll do it in a minute" one too many times.

Now when I say spanking, I don't really mean that she beat on me or anything - it some ways that would have been easier. For Granny, it was quite an elaborate process.

First off, she would let you know how disappointed she was with you (that always hurt the worst) and then she would hand you the pruning shears and send you out to the yard to cut a switch from a bush. You had one chance to cut a switch that met her standards, or else she'd go get one that exceeded them.

The switch was never rigid, but nice and pliable, and it made ominous swishing noises when it sped through the air. It was never very thick either - the point here was not physical injury but just a solid dose of negative re-enforcement. Granny applied the final switch of choice to the back of your legs - as she told me years later, "it does no real damage, just stings like a son-of-a-gun."

I doubt Granny ever had to take a switch to one of her kids or grandkids more than a handful times over the entire course of their childhood. Me, I clearly remember all three of mine - and I deserved every one of them.

Like I said, you really had to dig your grave deep before Granny resorted to the switch. She was quite adept at the punishment thing (especially by the time I got to her.) She was a master of the dreaded "talking to" and famed for her "fitting justice" methods. My all time favorite was an approach she developed to deal with her twin daughters when they would get to squabbling. She would make them sit in two kitchen chairs, back-to-back, tied together with dish towels. They had to stay there until they could get along - of course, by the time she'd get them trussed up they were both laughing, so it never lasted long.

She and I used to get into shouting matches. I think it's inevitable that you get grumpy with one another when the two of you spend day in and day out in each others company in a 600 square foot house. My favorite stunt of hers was when she would reach up to her ear and make a big show of turning her hearing aid off - to which I would just respond, "I can yell loud enough for you to hear me!" Our fights almost always ended with giggles when we realized how ridiculous we sounded. If I was really on a tear, Granny would make faces at me 'til she made me smile, and that would be the end of that.

Granny had a secret power though, one I don't think she even appreciated for all it was. She knew the Words of Doom. Now, these words, when uttered with vehemence by little white haired ladies are the equivalent of yelling "Fire!" in a crowded theater. To this day my mom and I laugh at the fact that just the mention of the Words of Doom makes us scrunch down in our seats and try to become invisible. It wasn't because the Words of Doom were ever directed at us, but because the Words of Doom meant that Granny was about to blow.

What were these powerful words, you ask? Well, believe it or not, they were: "God-Damned-Son-of-a-Bitch!" (Or if we happened to be out in public, : "G - D - S - O - B!" ) For the full effect you must imagine them spoken very deliberately and distinctly, with a whole range of emotion packed into each syllable. These words were quite simply Granny's meltdown alarm. She was frustrated and seething and she was about to take it out on something. I remember one instance when we locked ourselves out of the house, and she tried to get me to climb through the bathroom window, but I was just too little - at the moment she realized that she was the one who was going to have to go head first through the window and into the tub, out came the Words of Doom.

It's so funny to think about this little bitty woman, who was an absolute giant when it came to love and kindness, and her ability to clear the room with just one simple phrase. I've seen my family scramble like sailors on the deck of a submarine when the dive alarm is sounded to get out of her way. In fact, I must admit, I can still hear her say those Words of Doom, and it sends chills down my spine even to this very day. Come to think of it, I'd bet even the very angels in Heaven have learned to tremble by now!

Take me to Life With Granny 13...

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