When I was a kid, I used to think my parents were really rotten to me.
Once, we three younger kids were sent up to bed as usual but for some reason were mucking about, running in and out of each other's bedrooms and so on. My mother, hearing the patter of not-so-tiny feet, called up to us several times to get into bed "or else". Stupidly, we ignored her and carried on.
Then she came upstairs.
The surprised and guilty looks on our faces must have been really funny because she could barely contain her laughter, so she was smiling as each one of us dashed past her to our rooms, but still gave us a good wallop. That's an image we tease her with to this day: her smiling whilst giving us a good hiding
Then there was the time when my mum threw my favourite shoes on the fire in front of me. I'd come home from school and put on these old shoes that I used to love slobbing about in. I was whining about some paid in my feet which had nothing to do with the shoes at all, but she just grabbed them off me and threw them in the fire. I'm still annoyed about that :-)
Then there was the time my Dad threw all our Lego in the bin. We used to keep it in a biscuit tin and instead of tipping it out onto the nice quiet carpet to find that all-important piece, we just used to rummage noisily in the tin for it. Thinking about it, the noise would have been terrifically irritating I suppose.
Still, if that's all I've got to complain about from my childhood, I reckon I've got off pretty lightly. Looking back at it, I reckon the parent-beings did a pretty good job in not very easy circumstances (not much money and four kids).