Shear Madness

         When Colt was four, he had a persistent obsession with cutting. He trimmed his sister’s bangs flush against her skull, scalped all her Barbies, sliced holes in several window screens, and snipped off the cords that opened and closed the curtains. He cut  his “Green Eggs and Ham” book into pieces so small, they looked like confetti. But the last straw was when he made deep gouges on the hood of my brand new car--it looked like it had been mauled by a grizzly bear.

         I was infuriated and frustrated.  I’d exhausted all the typical, non-physical punishments and they had failed miserably. The message was just not getting through. Time to go old school.

         I picked up a bedroom slipper and paddled his butt. Its plastic sole made a loud and satisfying cracking noise. I hoped that this time he’d get the message.  Colt bawled and howled and big tears ran down his little cheeks. No kid on earth had ever been traumatized more.                                                                                                           

                  A week passed and he was sitting beside me on the couch, his blond head against my shoulder. Suddenly, completely out of the blue, he said, ”Mom, you hated me when I cut your car.”

         “No,” I replied, “I would never hate you. I was very angry that you scraped my new car. You keep cutting things, so I had to try spanking for a punishment. I’ll always love you though.”

         I expected him to speak but he remained silent, his head still on my shoulder. Finally, I asked, “Did you learn a lesson?”

          He leaned forward and a pensive expression appeared on his face. For a long moment, he stared into space, as though deep in thought. Finally, he turned towards me and nodded solemnly.

         “Yeah. Spankings with that shoe don’t hurt.”



Word Count: 298

Created originally 06/17/10 for “Tickle My Funny Bone” 2nd Place Winner