The past few days of Christmas have been, well, eventful. We are on Christmas number 4 in three days, and we have one more to go! There is a direct correlation with the conduct of Christmas activities and the number of spankings that must be administered in order to maintain un-zoo like behavior! Example: This morning, out of the blue, Fletch just shoves Melson to the floor. Just because she can. "Flecth, why did you shove your brother down?" "Um, I...." tap dance, tap dance, tap dance ".....Mely was trying to leave the den, so I put my hand out to stop him, and...." SJ interjects with all the attitude of a 13 year old "Uh, no one told him to stay here!" "So, Fletch, you just shoved him down just to do it?" "Yeah" "OK, you know what you have coming" This time, she didn't even complain about it. She new she fucked up, hands down, done. Caught. Red handed. She took her lumps and moved out. Good girl. And, she behaved the rest of the day.
On the way from Opelika to Birmingham yesterday, both girls were acting like straight jackasses, all the way in the back of the van. After like, 50 warnings of physical action they continue. I told Trish, "Take down the tray to clear the Ass Beating Aisle!" (I kick it real in a Honda Odyssey, it has a fold down tray between the front seats. ) As Trish began clearing off the tray, our two rocket scientists in the back noticed all this motion going on and Mommy's uncontrollable laughter as I talk under my breath about how I'm going to break somebody down like a shotgun in a minute. They figure that ass beatings are imminent and immediately cease all activities and become the most quiet and model children ever. It saved them much physical pain and mental trauma. Smart girls.
Yesterday during lunch at my parents house, the girls start playing under the lunch table. This is an absolute no no. Of course there are grandparents and great grandparents present, so a little grace is given. Instead of the instant spanking, they get the "What are you thinking? What in the world makes you think you can crawl under the table?" To which my 87 year old grandmother, who would have hung me by my toes and skinned me alive for the same offense 30 years ago, replies jumping up and down in here seat "I know the answer, I know the answer! It's Christmas!!!" So, how do you not piss yourself laughing at her response and still scare the shit out of your kids? Professionalism. Years of police work and being in the Army. Everyone else at the table besides the girls, not so much. Even my beloved wife and partner in kid herding busted out laughing and spit out her soup on the table. Sometimes, I should just stay in bed.
However, I would not trade this insanity for anything else. I truly hate having to spank, but after the 50 warnings, you got to deliver.
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