I can’t believe I’m confessing this. My mom also said, “Wait’ll your father gets home ...” So one time, I did something that really pissed her off. I was probably 10 or 11. She smacked me on my upper arm (not hard at all) and sent me to my room. So for the next hour, I took everything I could find, like an eraser, some scotch tape, the dull side of a knife, to make where she slapped me look as red and “angry” as I could make it. When dad came in to “speak” to me, the first thing he saw was this ungodly red mark on my arm. Of course he got pissed at her. But my older brother had witnessed the whole thing and I finally admitted what I’d done and to save my ass, started laughing which turned into blubbering and a feeble apology. I was a brat.