My mother. It was the only way she knew how to respond some times. I remember the last time she hit me. I swung round and raised my fist and she looked shocked. She said 'you wouldn't hit your mother would you ?'. I said 'you hit me and .....'. She wisely never laid a finger on me again because it could have been nasty.
That is indeed understandable. There is a limit on how much injustice a child can absorb.
BTW
I was hit by my mother only once. She brandished a metal clothing hanger on my legs. It was because at age six I arrived home at approx. 1 am in the morning. You see, I had been at my friend's birthday party and had gotten caught up playing with the other kids. The adults there just allowed me to hang around. Finally an adult there asked me where I lived, and if my parents were not worried. Finally, told me that I should go home.
We lived on the second floor a housing-projects apartment below. When I arrived there, I found my parents in severe distress. They had not yet called the police, for some strange reason. Perhaps because then they would have needed to assume that something dreadful had occurred, and were trying to avoid reaching that conclusion?
Regardless, they were definitely extremely emotionally shaken. I calmly told them that I had been upstairs at my friends party playing. My father suddenly lost his temper and angrily unsheathed his trouser belt, and was about to thrash me. To me he seemed like an enraged preternatural giant who was totally out of control, and was about to kill me. I panicked and sought my mother's protection by grabbing onto her thighs while whimpering in fright. Well, she didn't allow him to hit me, since, as she told him,
"If you never speak to him, and all you do is shout when you do, you are not going to discipline him in that way ether!"
So she then proceeded to calmly explain why she was about to punish me physically. Of course, that didn't reduce the agony that I felt as that metal hanger struck my little legs. She kept repeating after every blow. "Eso no se hace! Eso no se hace!" meaning "You do not do that!" It seemed that the agonizing blows would never end. I ran to my room afterward weeping and feeling as if a great injustice had been done to me.
After all, just telling me not to do it again would have sufficed, since I had done it without malice, and not because I was rebelling against any specific parental instructions. I had Just gotten childishly distracted playing with other kids. No, I never did it again. So I guess the lesson was learned
So what did you *do* to get out of the situation?! @David777
