It was a typical Saturday and me and my two brothers Eddie and Peter were left alone to do our Saturday chores; cleaning, mowing the lawn, emptying the garbage, etc. After that we¡¦re supposed to do our homework and study until our parents return from work. They always work until after 5:00 so what happened that Saturday was completely unexpected. We got halfway through our chores and were taking a break on the porch when we saw our friends walking down the street. They had their whiffleball stuff and told us they were starting a game in the front yard of the house across the street from ours and asked us if we wanted to play. It was a beautiful spring day and we figured we had until at least 5:00 to finish our chores and pretend we did our homework so we hopped at the chance.
About halfway through the game I was up at bat. We set up the field so it was facing the street. Just as I was getting the first pitch I froze and got a strike. I had frozen because coming down the street was my parent¡¦s station wagon. Peter saw the look on my face and turned around and then he and Eddie saw it too. We all gulped.
They drove in the driveway and got out and walked across the street. ¡§Hi, you¡¦re home early¡¨ I said, trying to sound cheerful, but my voice was already shaking since I knew what the mostly likely thing to happen next would be. ¡§Did you boys finish all your chores and homework?¡¨ my father asked. ¡§Well, uh¡K..¡¨ Eddie said. ¡§Let¡¦s go inside and have a look¡¨ my father said calmly, but he also had that look on his face which meant he was just playing along until he proved we had misbehaved.
Me and my brothers followed our parents across the lawn. The other kids had a mixed reaction of nervous looks and on their faces or smirks and giggles, cause they had seen this happen to us in similar incidents and knew what was coming. Once inside my parents pointed out the half emptied garbage, unfinished lawn and dirty dishes. My father then pointed to the list of rules that was pinned to the bulletin board and told me to read number 3 out loud. ¡§No playing of any kind until all chores and homework are finished for the day¡¨ I read despondently. Then he pointed out that it was written in red. There was a key at the bottom of the list that stated which punishments were for which color the rule was written in (for example, a rule written in black meant grounding and a green rule meant writing essays, etc.) The red rule meant the most serious punishment: a spanking.
Hanging next to the list on a hook was the family paddle. It was 18 inches long and 3 inches wide; big enough cover my whole bottom. It had ¡§Board of Education¡¨ printed in red letters diagonally across the face and ¡§Grip Here Firmly In Case of Frustration¡¨ on the handle. Across the bottom was printed ¡§Applied Psychology¡¨. At the business end of the face of the paddle was a drawing of a man delivering a spanking to a bent over boy with another boy bent over beside him awaiting his paddling. The paddle was well-worn as it was always used on us whenever we violated a red rule.
¡§You boys know what the punishment is¡¨ said my father. ¡§All of you into your room¡¨ he said as he took the paddle off of its hook. We filed into the bedroom we all shared with our heads hanging low, part in fear of what was coming and partly hoping to gain sympathy. Eddie, the youngest was already shedding some sniffling tears. We stood at the end of a set of bunk beds that me and Eddie shared. Peter, the oldest, had a single bed across from that. That was where all of our spankings took place, whether it was all three of us or just one alone.
My father closed the door and sat down on Peter¡¦s bed. ¡§Eddie, come over here¡¨ he said firmly. ¡§You boys have to learn responsibility and these seems the only way¡¨. He guided Eddie next to him and unsnapped his jeans and pulled down his pants and pulled him across his lap. Eddie was already crying a little. He picked up the paddle from the bed, raised it about shoulder high and came down sharply on Eddie¡¦s butt. Peter and me cringed at that familiar sound of board on butt that we were all so scared of. ¡§Ahhhhhh¡¨ cried Eddie as my father raised the paddle again started a series of 7 more swats, each about a second or two apart and each as firm as the first. Eddie¡¦s little rear end was bright pink and he was bawling by the time my father got to the 8th swat, which was always a little harder than the others. He then picked Eddie up and let him run over to his bed to lay on it and hold his smarting rear end while he blubbered.
My father then stood up and ordered me to come over. Me and Peter were too big for him to spank us over his knee so we were always ordered to bend over the bed. I was first cause Peter was the oldest and always the last spanked. I pulled down my jeans myself since I knew I had to. My hands were shaking as I unsnapped them. I bent over and clenched my rear end, waiting for the first swat. My father didn¡¦t waste any time and placed his hand on my back for balance and began my spanking. Whack! Ouch, that first one was always bad, but the next three were always the worst. Whack! Whack! Whack! My butt was on fire by now and the tears were starting to flow. Then the next series of four began. By now my rear end was beginning to get numb from the pain. My father finished the rest in quick succession. He didn¡¦t have to tell me it was over, I knew when and limped over to my bed to cry it out and rub my butt.
From the bed, even through my tears, I had a perfect view of Peter¡¦s paddling. He walked over without even being told, quickly pulled down his jeans and obediently bent over with his hands at his sides and awaited his punishment. I watched my father raise the paddle. This time I could see how high it went. He stretched his whole arm above ear level. Our spankings were always harder than Eddie¡¦s cause we¡¦re bigger. He came down sharply on Peter¡¦s behind. Whack! That awful sound of the paddle connecting with your butt. By now my father¡¦s practiced hand was in a rhythm and he didn¡¦t slow down between the first and second four series of swats. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! WHACK! It echoed through our room until the last extra hard swat that Peter, the oldest, always got. His butt was a bright red all over, just like mine I was sure. Peter stood up and obediently waited to see what was next, even as tears streamed down his face.
¡§Let this be a lesson to you boys about finishing your work before playing¡¨ he said, and then opened the door and closed it behind him as he left. I could hear the paddle being returned to its hook, awaiting the next time it would be employed on one of our behinds. It usually wasn¡¦t long until it was. I then returned to my sniffling and watched Eddie and Peter crying face down on their beds while they rubbed their red behinds.
About an hour later my father opened the door and said punishment time was over and to get back to finishing our chores and homework. We got finished about 5:00 and then we had a family barbeque outside. Us boys washed the dishes and before it was dark my father said ¡§Well, now that all of our chores and homework are finished, why don¡¦t we all go across the street and finish the whiffleball game?¡¨ We did and by then we all but forgot our afternoon paddling ¡V that is until we all got in bed that night, rubbing our still smarting behinds. It wasn¡¦t the first time we all got caught at something and paddled together and I knew it wasn¡¦t going to be the last.
Comments are appreciated. Please email to: randyo454@yahoo. com