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What my grandmother used to say when I misbehaved. Not only would I be burdoned with the task of cutting a switch from a tree, but I would also have to make sure it was of high quality. She insisted on old world craftsmanship in her switches. If the one I brought back was found lacking, she would go outside and get her own off the tree, and the whupping I would get would be twice as bad as what I would have gotten had I done it right the first time. The worst part was that the tree she would sometimes use would be a weeping willow, which has very pliant branches and really hurts when thrashed repeatedly against the butt of a 9 year old.