http://www.dispatch.com/live/conten...o-dad-gets-eight-years-kid-dryer.html?sid=101 "CLEVELAND (AP) -- A Cleveland man has been sentenced to eight years in prison for putting his young daughter in a clothes dryer and turning it on to teach her not to go inside the machine. Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Judge Joan Synenberg sentenced 36-year-old Steve McClairn yesterday on his guilty plea to child endangering, abduction and domestic violence. McClairn told the judge he put the 7-year-old girl into the dryer Dec. 19 not as punishment, but to teach her never to climb into the machine." This is only funny becuase the kid didn't die. Focus: Talk about a time when someone tried to teach you a lesson in a creative way. ALt. Focus: Fucked up parenting.
What's wrong with what he did? She kept getting into it, he'd told her not to numerous times so he tossed her in with a dryer sheet*. See this is why I'll never have kids. I have zero maternal instinct. *I wonder if it was a Bounce* sheet. *See what I did there?
Is anyone else imagining a scene in Arrested Development after reading that? One-armed man says: And that's why you don't crawl into the clothes dryer!
My dad took great pleasure in teaching me how electric fences worked. Me-How come we have 4 wires to keep our cows in and mr. dairy farmer only has one little wire. Dad- Go grab the little wire
We didn't have a dryer, so my dad hung me out on the clothes line. My brother wasn't so lucky. They took him down to the river and beat him with rocks.
When we were younger, my brother and I got in an argument in front of my grandma. My grandma ran out to her car and came back with boxing gloves and made us go at it. After getting my ass kicked, I learned my lesson...Don't argue in front of grandma.
Both sets of grandparents owned tobacco farms in western MA so there was plenty to get into out there. One barn had an old pig sty that was sunk into the ground about 8ft and was pretty dark and scary when the door to it was shut since almost no other light came in. My older cousins and I tricked my sister into going down into it by telling her that She-ra was down there. Then we pulled up the ladder, slammed the door and left her in there until my father found her 10 minutes later (she screamed her head off and we went to hide in the woods). My pacifist uncle yelled at his kids and probably took away McDonalds from them on their ride home. I wasn't so lucky. My father grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the barn so fast that my feet didn't even touch the ground. He paused at the door and then tossed me into the sty pit. Then he closed the door and jammed it shut from outside. For all of 30 seconds I pretended it was funny. Then I started to panic. It was dark, dirty, and there are all sorts of creepy sounds that come from a hundred year old barn. I started yelling for him to come get me. Pleading and crying like a little bitch. He let me out after a few minutes but I learned my lesson and never did anything overly malicious to my sister again.
I've been beaten with nearly every regular household item you can think of and nearly every kind of shoe. Most of the time I did deserve it because I was a little shit disturber. It works though, look at what a fine gentleman I am now.
I'm not sure how creative it is but I just had a baseline level of neglect, and then I would get acknowledged if I did something worthwhile. I think my parents misunderstood the concept of positive reinforcement.
Well, its a good thing she didn't find his gun and he tried to show her why not the put the muzzle in your mouth.
If parents were graded, both of mine would have received F's. 5 year old Kittie: I want a beer too, Daddy! Aunt Cindy has one! Kittie's Dad: Here ya go Kid! I'm not going to drink in the house but it is perfectly acceptable for my kid to get plastered at family functions and even more cute since you are a girl! Well done, Dad. 16 year old Kittie: Hey Mom, remember that 21 year old that came by? Yeah, we're dating now. Kittie's Mother: That's OK honey, keep your bedroom door locked and whatever you do is your business! Seriously Mom? Ever hear of statutory rape? Are you CRAZY? How I didn't end up on Maury Povich is a miracle. What.the.fuck. Seriously, I had zero rules or guidelines as long as I was well behaved in public and received good grades in school or was successful at work. I could have sacrificed animals in my backyard and started a cult, as long as I wasn't missing work or in monetary trouble, that would have been fine with my parents. They put entirely too much trust into adolescent Kittie. The result? I never grew up and had to suffer some major consequences.
Having trouble getting through to a child? Videotape the birth. Then when the child misbehaves, show him the video in reverse. Explain to him that no options are off the table.
Wait, did your grandma go buy gloves or did she just have them in her car? Because if your grandma carried around boxing gloves (not one pair, but two), then you have to have more stories like that about her. Probably about how you always cried whenever grandma was around. Alt focus: My mom told me she'd support my decision if I dropped out of high school. I don't even know how we got on the topic in the first place- I think the fact that it was probably even being discussed is relevant, too.
They were a birthday present for my brother that ended up being put to good use right away...fuck that, if she carried around boxing gloves everywhere she went then I would hide in terror everytime she rolled into town.
My grandmother had a paddle that had small holes in it. It was used for a sport of which I don't remember. The only sport I was aware of was the one that included beating my ass. If I was mean to my sister, out came the paddle. The little holes allowed to her swing faster with less drag from the paddle going through the air. Leaving me with a red ass with little white circles on it. She kept it in the closet with all my toys. I didn't find that funny.
Son, today you're going to learn to control your emotions. You're going to do things that some men are unable and unwilling to do.
My father was good at teaching lessons through neglectful parenting. You know those black kitchen hotplates that don't change colour? I found out the hard way not to put your hand on them after dad turned one on and left it for half an hour, then told me to make him some tea. I turned another one on leaned on the one that was on with my whole palm. That was a fun healing process, but I never did it again. When I was four, my parents had a cafe/takeout place. They did rotisserie chickens along with the usual other things. The caustic soda they used to clean the rotisserie was kept in an old polystyrene cup next to the polystyrene cup of sprinkles. I liked to lick my finger, plunge it in the sprinkles and then put my finger in my mouth. Guess who picked the wrong cup one day? That was a fun healing process, but I never did it again...
Alt Focus: I still blame my mom for having bad knees because she forced me to kneel on them as punishment. I also had to pull my ears while kneeling which caused me to have lopsided ear lobes. Bitch. Sidenote* This wasn't punishment but she forced me to drink a cup of warm milk every night, the type of warmness that causes a thin film of gooey shit to reside on the surface. But hey I'm a 6'1 Chinese kid so whatever. But I swear we weren't meant to be this tall since I have scoliosis. FUUUCCCKKKKKK.