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Portrait of a Spanko as a Young Girl

A common theme of conversation among us who do this thing we do is, "when did it start for you? when did you know?" I, for one, have no doubt I was born with the spanko gene. How can I be so sure? Here's a little story that illustrates my point.

As a child, I had very few rules. I was the only child of a single mother, a well-behaved and quiet little girl. But even then, I craved discipline.

 So I invented someone who would supply it in spades.

 She didn't have a name, she was just Nanny. She was not cruel, and I always felt she cared about me, even if I was a little scared of her.

Nanny had very clear rules for me to follow, and certain consequences if I broke them.
 
So many times, I remember my mom asking me to do something that Nanny forbade. "Come on, Libby!" Mom would say. "Stay up and watch the late show with me!"


Knowing Nanny would spank me soundly if I broke her bedtime rule, I would decline, and head upstairs.

So, while my schoolmates had imaginary pals who caused all sorts of mischief, I had a Very Strict Imaginary Nanny who spanked me.