Mom would use the, "Wait until I tell your father when he gets home", deal. Sometimes she would forget or felt compassion maybe, which was a great relief. He came home tired and irritable as a rule anyway. One time I was already in bed, but I had an inkling that she wasn't going to forget that day. I heard him come in and had my face turned towards the wall, pretending to be asleep. He didn't say anything, simply walked up and slapped me hard across the face and walked out. I don't believe he even turned on the light, used a little glow from the hall to pinpoint his target. Kind of got me in the ear too, so that it rang for awhile. I hope he had a nice evening after relieving all his stress, but If I had a shotgun, I might have gone into the kitchen where he would be sitting over his Schlitz, and blown his head off. I guess I could have taken mom too. They didn't put children away for long in those days, and I wasn't a bad kid.