While over at my girlfriend Crystal’s house this weekend for a delightful dinner with her family, the conversation somehow rolled around to the topic of disciplining children, specifically whether or not to spank children as a form of punishment for misbehavior.

I have been and always will be in the pro-spanking camp, as my own parents were and their parents before them.

To this day, I can’t look at a wooden spoon without cringing or visibly tensing up, as it brought back memories of the dreaded “Spankin’ Spoons” that my mother, Liz McCollum, and our family friend Betsy Gore kept in their purses to be brandished threateningly whenever behavioral reinforcement was needed.

More often than not, they didn’t have to use the spoon on us; the simple image of the spoon raised in their hand and a menacing arch of the eyebrows was more than enough to keep us in line.

After all, once you’ve been spanked, you don’t really ever want to repeat the experience again.

I don’t wish to imply that I was a troublesome child (I much prefer the word “precocious”), but it was well known throughout our group of friendly families that parents had permission to spank each others’ children if the need arose.

You didn’t want to get spanked at someone else’s house while you were there because:

a) Their preferred method of spanking might be worse than your own family’s, and

b) You would inevitably get a spanking for having to be spanked over at the other family’s house.

One of these friendly parents had the dreaded belt closet, where you were forced to go and pick the instrument of your doom.

MInd you, he never hit hard enough to leave a physical mark, just enough to let you know what you were doing was wrong.

This particular father now has children that are a respected teacher, a beloved chiropractor and a celebrated NFL player, so perhaps the results speak for themselves.

I was always careful not to get into trouble at my paternal grandmother’s house either, as I had been inundated with a lifetime of horror stories from my father, uncle and my older cousins.

Maw Maw was a staunch advocate of the old school “switch” method, and if the switch you picked out didn’t match her ideal of what the perfect spanking instrument would be, you’d get punished even more.

Family legend also told me that she allegedly may have used a cast-iron skillet on a family member with a high degree of effectiveness.

My dad and uncle still can’t talk about whatever happened to the two of them after the infamous “Chicken in the Outhouse” Incident, and, in order to preserve happy memories of my late grandmother, I’m not certain I want to know.

After she passed, and I was living in her home, I came across some ladies’ brass knuckles, so I dare say it is safe to assume that Maw Maw didn’t play.

I’m not advocating beating children, and child abuse is a heinous crime that sadly goes unreported in an unexpectedly large number of cases.

But, there is something to be said for a firm yet gentle reminder of parental discipline and authority that spanking, paddling and “whoopins” represent.

Heaven knows back in my teaching days there were a number of students whose lack of respect for authority I believe could have been easily cured with a quick paddlin’.

Heck, that might be what’s wrong with these entitled kids these days.

We’ve spared the rod, or the wooden spoon, and we’ve definitely spoiled the child.

Cliff McCollum is managing editor of Gulf Coast Media. He can be reached at cliff@gulfcoastmedia.com.