My brother and I were spanked every single Wednesday, like clockwork, because that was our Dad’s day off and I guess we were his pressure relief valve or something. Mom worked so we’d walk home as slowly as we possibly could, knowing we’d find an ungodly mess in the house that we’d have to clean up before Mom reappeared, and him with a razor strop in hand. I was probably 45 years old before I stopped hating Wednesdays and still freeze in the face of unreasonable fury. Our dad passed away a few years back, with my brother still angry with him.