Questionable Spanking

By virtue of what was an unfair assault to my behind, this dormant recollection with which I had locked away as a child suddenly came back to me as I began to swing the belt. There before me stood the sad, tear-stained face of my own child. He was dreadfully awaiting the painful contact of my leather belt as it approached his rear end. Without warning, those words from long ago echoed through my mind.

“This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you.” My father had said to me.

I remember thinking that he was only saying that to make himself feel better for the unjust punishment which he was about to inflict upon me. I boldly protested his actions as I was innocent of the charges brought against me. Seemingly oblivious to my parents was the fact they were actually the ones in the wrong. However, in spite of all my efforts to convince them of this notion, my bottom was repeatedly pelted by the leather strap.

Like any other kid my age, playing outside with my friends was what life was all about. On that particular day, my best friend and I went to the local shopping center to hang out. Most of the storeowners were familiar with us since this was where the neighboring kids typically spent a lot of their time. The majority of them would hang out behind the shopping center riding bikes, skateboarding, or roller-skating. Nevertheless, it was the bookstore, believe it or not, that was actually our preferred point of interest. My friend and I would often sit inside browsing through the various books or chit-chat with the owner. After our usual day of goofing off, we decided to walk over to the nearby McDonalds and grab ourselves a cool, refreshing sundae.

Noticing that it was almost time for me to get home, we stopped at a pay phone along the way to call my mom. When she answered the phone, I asked if it was okay for me to grab a sundae from McDonalds before I came home. At first, she said no but after pleading with her, she reluctantly agreed. To my delight, we then scampered off to get our treats. Unfortunately, my excitement was short lived. When I stepped out of the door with my strawberry sundae in hand, I was stopped dead in my tracks. The car had suddenly pulled right up next to me. Inside the car and with scowling faces, were my parents. I was told to get in, and the car sped away from the scene, my sundae was snatched from my hands.

“What’s wrong,” I asked them, “What did I do? You said that I could go.”

Following the devastating ordeal, I remained inside my bedroom thinking about the unreasonable actions of my parents. How would I be able to forgive them for such an unjust cause? Somehow realizing their faults, they both came into my room and apologized. However, this did not take away the burning sensation which continued to throb across my backside. Making matters worse, my father had eaten my sundae!

Now as I sympathetically stared into those tear-filled eyes of my son, that tortuous experience made me question the very action with which I was about to partake. Overwhelmed by the possible outcome which would forever affect him, I quickly withdrew my grip from the belt and hugged my child tightly.

“Does this mean I’m not in trouble anymore, Mama?”

I gave my son a tender smile and being aware of my parental duties with respect to discipline, I simply replied, “You’re grounded.”

Times were different when I was growing up, and spankings seemed to be the norm; nonetheless, Dad, you still owe me a strawberry sundae.