THE NAUGHTY HOUSE - Scarred for life
Being one of four kids meant we usually went on camping holidays, often to France. Off we would trundle in our clapped out old red Nissan Estate packed to the point of almost bursting. Mum and Dad in front, me, elder brother and sister in back seat, and little brother curled up in a ball in the boot ! (Yes, very responsible parenting - not). As the journeys wore on, and the temperatures rose, bordeom and frustration would set in - and tempers would fray. I remember clearly the moment when my little brother (poor bugger cramped up in the boot for hours on end) was being a bit of a little bastard just as we drove past some type of industrial plant, you know the kind with tall towers with gas flames burning at the top. My parents had the bright idea of telling him that this complex was The Naughty House and this was the place where all parents took their naughty children to be punished. I've never seen him shut up so quickly, it was hilarious (only because we were old enough to know they were bull shitting) - in fact me, my elder brother and sister jumped on the bandwagon and elaborated on what happened in there. How evil we were telling him that the men in there would pull out his finger nails, and spank him for hours on end, burn his hair in the flames - what a bunch of evil bastards we were !

But as a parental white lie it worked a treat at getting a troublesome youngster in the back of the car to shut up !!
(jim_bar, Sat 17 Jan 2004, 20:47, Reply)