06 Jun PRAIA DO SARGI – 4 JUNE 2020 – PUNISHMENTS

As a child, when I was fooling around, my father punished me. The punishments were administered according to the severity of the crap I did. 

The theft was punished by a sudden slap. 

My father had a technique that no matter how careful I was, I couldn’t avoid it in time. 

Time was expanding at that moment and I could see his hand with his fleshy fingers approaching my nose. 

It took me a few thousandths of a second to feel the smell of tobacco on his hand and I knew that after this the impact will follow. 

It didn’t make sense to close my eyes because a white light invaded my gaze, leaving a dense fog. 

My nose felt swollen, throbbing to my heartbeat, followed by a warm sensation. 

I had the impression that my mucus was flowing but it was not mucus.

Second place after the theft was the lie. 

If he caught me lying to him, I wouldn’t be allowed to go out for a week. 

That hurt more than the slap.

My children’s generation is better. They don’t steal, they don’t lie and they don’t run away from home, but they still argue with each other endlessly. 

When chaos begins to erupt, I intervene. 

How? 

Calmly, and logically, we dissect the problem until the inadvertence comes to light.

When we don’t reach a consensus, we start all over again.

When we don’t reach a consensus, we start all over again.

When we don’t reach a consensus, we start all over again.

When they get bored, we reach a consensus.

They usually get bored very quickly but when they don’t, it’s a delight.

Other than that, nothing, all’s good…

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PEDEPSELE

Pe vremea copilariei cand faceam o tampenie, tata ma pedepsea. 

Pedepsele erau administrate in functie de gravitatea porcariei. 

Furtul era pedepsit cu un dos de palma, efectuat brusc. 

Avea tata o tehnica incat oricat de atent eram nu reuseam sa ma feresc in timp util. 

Timpul se dilata in acel moment si-i vedeam mana cu degetele carnoase apropiindu-se in reluare de nasul meu. 

Imi erau de ajuns cateva miimi de secunda pentru a-i simti mirosul de tutun de pe mana. 

Stiam ca dupa el urmeaza impactul. 

Nu avea sens sa inchid ochii pentru ca o lumina alba-mi invada privirea dupa care se lasa o ceata densa. 

Imi simteam nasul umflat, zvacnind in ritmul batailor inimii. Urma o senzatie de cald. 

Aveam impresia ca imi curg mucii dar nu erau muci. 

Pe locul doi, dupa furt, era minciuna. 

Daca ma prindea ca-l mint, o saptamana nu mai aveam voie sa ies afara. 

Asta durea mai rau decat dosul de palma. 

Generatia asta a copiilor mei este mai reusita. 

Astia nu fura, nu mint si nici nu fug de acasa dar se cearta totusi intre ei. 

Cand haosul incepe sa erupa, intervin. 

Cum? 

Cu calm, si logica disecam problema pana iese inadvertenta la iveala. 

Cand nu ajungem la un conses, o luam de la capat. 

Cand nu ajungem la un conses, o luam de la capat.

Cand nu ajungem la un conses, o luam iarasi de la capat.

Cand se plictisesc, ajungem la un consens.

De obicei se plictisesc foarte repede iar cand nu o fac, este un deliciu. 

In rest, nimic, toate bune…