Puberty in Public

Puberty is a strange thing. Never mind the uncontrollable raging hard on’s and the overwhelming fascination with your teachers boobs, the most difficult part I found was the temper tantrums. In a flash I would go from “Ha ha ha that was funny: You put a drawing pin on my chair” to “Eat the pin you little effer! Eat it!” Yesterday was one such day. Today I’m getting caned by the Principal: Three strikes per infringement so that’s nine lashings with the thinnest most wicked little cane.

Mr Peach was my primary school principal. Great man with a good understanding of what naughty boys require as discipline. Modern day fanny-farting around with positive reinforcement and reverse phycology would have done absolutely nothing to my group of mates. Partly because we would giggle uncontrollably at the phrase “fanny-farting” and partly because in order for phycology to work the patient has to be psychologically adapt. Boys at age 11 are just not. Not in my time at least. 

However, when Mr Peach pulled you into his office and opened his cane-cupboard, filled with different shapes and sizes and allowed you to choose which cane you wanted to receive your lashings from, you started your Hail Marys.

So: Slash, whack, whip as I received my first three. “You know what that is for right?” in typical Mr Peach fashion. He would make you explain your story back to him just to allow the pain to sink in. I was playing on the sports fields with a bunch of guys. Rugby, but with a tennis ball. Everything was going well and then my other pubescent personality (Mr Aggro I-Hate- Pube-Hairs) kicked in and I spear tackled the kak out of one of the players. Jammed him so hard into the ground that I dislocated his shoulder and he had to go to the hospital. Sorry Mr Peach.

Slash, whack, whip as I received my second set of three. The sixth hit was right on the money as he struck perfectly over the same spot twice. “You know what that is for right?” A little bit later on in the day I was playing chess with the chess club. The guy I was playing against was this little guy and I was winning the match. Then, he took one of my chess pieces off the table and put it in his pocket in an attempt to cheat. Like a flash of lightning: Mr Aggro I-Hate- Pimples kicked in and I picked this little dude up and threw him onto the ground. I pinned him against the wall when and gave him a smack on the top of his head. He wouldn’t give me my chess piece back so I picked up a chair, shoved it over his head and sat on him. The legs of the chairs dug little chunks out of his lower back and arm. Sorry Mr Peach.

Slash, whack, whip and there is a light at the end of the tunnel. My last three. By now my ass was on fire but thankfully it was starting to go numb. “You know what that is for right?”. Yes, yes. While I was sitting on my chair the little guy’s brother threw his space case at me and that hit square on the side of my face. Mr Aggro Emotional-Control-Problems then threw the chair across the classroom at the brother. He dodged it and ran out of the room. I gave chase as he ran down the passage way when I realised I wouldn’t be able to catch him. There were some broken pieces of floor tiles from the recent renovations lying on the floor next to me. I picked up this jagged half-tile and threw it at him with all my might. It frisbee-spun straight at his head so he took a dive to the side. The tile flew past him like a 3^rd World ninja star and smashed the classroom window behind him. Sorry Mr Peach.

With my ass cheeks slipping away into the darkness Mr Peach turned away and packed the cane back in to the devil cupboard. He turned back to me with a fizzer sweet in his hand and said “Here, have a fizzer. By the time you are done with that you will realise what you did was wrong. No matter how hard a cane you the pain will always go away. Take your time to eat that fizzer until you realise one thing: The lesson here today is that discipline is something you must learn to control yourself.” It went quiet as I nibbled away on the fizzer and soaked in what he said. Ten seconds later the fizzer was demolished and we both had a moment of realisation. With a cheeky smile he closed off by saying:

 “And next time, don’t choose the thin cane. The thick on hurts less”