Almost the opposite for me.
My Mom would chase me around the house with a belt screaming "you just wait until your Dad gets home!!!"
Worst beating I ever got was when I said it couldn't be any worse when he did get home.
One time when I was about 15, I came home to find mom rearranging my room. I was 15...so that pissed me off. Plus, she had thrown out my Marvel comics collection. That sent me through the roof. I called her a few choice names and went to another room. In a minute, she comes in there with a belt and I quickly let her know she wasn't hitting me with that thing. She turns 8 shades of red and drew back with the belt. I reached up and grabbed it from her and threw it across the room.
You ever do something that makes time stand still for a minute...something that brings on that realization that you...have just....royally....fucked up. I watched as the belt twirled in slow motion across the den....knowing the next words I heard would be, "You just wait....well, you know the rest...
I did wait (Shouldn't have) and he did come home (Wish he hadn't) Mom sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher in the bedroom telling him about the episode. WAH WAAAHH...WAH WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAAHHHH.....Door flings open and out charges dad....belt ripping through the loops as he prepares to whip some Snaggle ass. "Not gonna' hit you with this belt, huh?" Now, this ain't no butt whipping with the belt. This is whatever opening he could find as I backed down the hallway with my arms up in protect mode. Then the belt comes flying out of his hand and it's a sho-nuff ass whoopin'. Ironically, the thing that saved me from certain ICU status was the fact that mom had pulled the bed in the middle of the room. I jumped to the other side and for the next minute, it's Snags countering his every move from the other side of the bed until finally, I outlasted him. He storms out and I run lock the door.
He'll be 80 in 10 days. I think I can take him now.