Monday, February 17, 2014

A Lesson Learned

© Guyspencer 2014


                                                             A Lesson Learned

When you are the oldest boy in a military family and your father is away on a long and dangerous deployment, the pressure to be “the man of the house” will either bring out the best in you or the brat in you.  In my case, the effect seemed to be mixed.  Since my father’s departure, I had gotten along well enough at home, but I seemed to be getting into increasing trouble at school.

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I felt the usual butterflies as I handed the referral form to the school secretary.   After a quick glace, she told me what I already knew; I would have to see Dean Majors.  It was the third time this year that Mrs. Sessions had sent me to the Dean for “disruptive behavior”.  That last time the Dean had given me the maximum, six scorching licks from “Thor”, his impressive paddle.  I’m glad we were alone in that office, because Thor made me cry!

I’m really pissed off!  Who wouldn’t be upset, knowing that they are obviously about to feel that paddle again?                         

The secretary motioned me to a seat, carried the form into the Dean’s office, and then ignored me.  The Dean made me wait about 15 miserable minutes before finally bellowing my name. 

I endured his usual speech.  As before, he talked more about how I should be the “man of the house” while Daddy was deployed than about behaving in school.  That’s the problem with going to the same church as the Dean!  Here at school, he was the Dean, the man with the paddle.  But at church he was Mr. James Sessions, a friend of the family who knew everything about me.   Somehow, knowing me seemed to unfairly increase his expectations of me.  Being the school’s Dean, he was in a special position to enforce his “expectations” with Thor.

Anyhow, I was surprised when today’s speech didn’t end as usual.  That is, he didn’t end his speech by telling me to bend over for a date with Thor.  Instead, he filled out a form that sentenced me to two weeks of detention.  He explained; “I gave you the school’s maximum last time and it didn’t do any good, so your mother and I talked and we came up with another plan to try and get through to you.  Your mother has disciplinary powers that a Dean can only dream of having.  So your brothers are staying overnight at my house so you and your mother can have a nice long private session together.”

My butt clenched at that prospect.

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After dropping my two brothers off at the Sessions’ house, Mom drove me back home.  She parked in the garage.  As we stepped out of the car, she pointed me to the laundry room.  “Remove your school clothes, drop them in the dirty clothes hamper, and then meet me in the living room.”  I obeyed quickly.  Clad only in my underpants I anxiously padded into the living room to find Mom waiting for me.

Then a bit of a miracle happened.  Somehow Mom found the right words, and got through to me.  What I expected to be a scolding, somehow turned into a two-way conversation, and somehow we both ended up in tears.  When it was over, I somehow felt different and I suddenly knew that I was done being a problem boy at school…so I told her so.  She hugged me for a long time and told me that she was happy.  Finally, with a hand firmly on each shoulder, she looked me in the eyes and said, “You know that I still have to blister your butt right?”  I nodded and squeaked my understanding. 

“You won’t be mad at me?”

“No Mommy” I blubbered, “I earned it and Daddy will expect me to get it.”
 
“It’s not just Daddy,” she corrected, “You have disregarded several warnings and continued to disrupt your class, you deserve punishment for that.”

“Yes Mommy,” I said, facing my fate squarely.

There was a long silence that Mom finally broke by gently suggesting that I fetch the hairbrush.  After a quick detour to empty my bladder, I visited my parent’s bedroom to get the heirloom hardwood hairbrush that never seemed to actually brush hair.   

Back in the living room, I found mother sitting exactly in the center of the couch.  With butterflies in my stomach, I handed the hairbrush to Mom.  She made a vague motion in the general direction of my underpants; I knew what to do.  This part was almost as bad as the spanking itself!  Red-faced, I lowered my briefs and stepped out of them.  Now naked, I suppressed the impulse to cover my barely-teenaged near-manhood, sensing that this intimate humbling was somehow part of my punishment.   As I waited for the next instruction, I noticed Mom looking appraisingly at me, neither staring at the developments below my bellybutton, nor looking away.  She finally spoke: “You understand that I have to make a good job of this right?” 

I started to croak some type of answer, but she wasn’t done explaining herself.  With a broad smile, she produced a telegram, “Read it”.

As you will surely understand, telegrams aren’t normally welcome when you have a loved one on military deployment, but this telegram was different.  Father had unexpectedly been granted leave.  Daddy would be home in three days!

“I want this to be a ‘done deal’ when your father arrives home because I want our time with him to be perfect.  Still, he’s bound to hear about you getting into trouble.  So he’ll see your newly improved attitude, and if he checks, he’ll find appropriate marks on your bottom.  So let’s get on with it.”

As I put myself across my mother’s lap for what I knew would be a long and painful ride, I had tears in my eyes. 

But the happy tears outnumbered the sad ones.  

© Guyspencer 2014

1 Comments:

Anonymous GriffinOfTheFuture said...

Sweet story! I love how true it is, I can see myself in his place.

9:54 PM, February 11, 2016  

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