Ah. The difference emerges. My real father left my mom before I was born. My mother remarried to a man 12 years her senior. He is now 75. Anywho, I got an old school, butt whooping, upbringing. Because what my dad did in today's world is considered abuse, I'm not quite as hard on my kids as he was on my brother and I. But what I can't do with a paddle, I can do all day between pushups, flutter kicks, and a little thing I endearingly call Wally's. That's where I have my son place his back against the wall, bend his knees to a 90 degree angle and hold his arms out straight in front of him. He loves it.