Resentment

No resentment here, frankly quite the opposite. I grew up in the fifties and, like many here, the enema bulb and fountain syringe were used frequently in our family. Of course when I was real young I was fearful of the procedure, and didn't understand why mom insisted on cleaning me out instead of just waiting for things to happen on their own. Every time (and it was frequent) mom would go into great detail throughout her enema ritual telling me about the necessity of the enema, how good it feels to be cleaned out and how everybody needs a good enema once in awhile. I saw my older siblings go into the bathroom for their enemas without complaint and soon learned to accept the enema as necessary and good for me. I looked forward to hearing mom's encouragement and praise for taking a "good" enema. It was her fixation on my bowel habits and those enemas that has given me a lifetime of relaxing pleasures that only a klismo understands.