You may be aware that I’ve been suffering from a massive creative block for quite a long while now. Not entirely sure of the reason, though I have a handful of theories. I’m not going to take the time to figure it out. Instead, I’m just going to write. Even if it sucks. I’m going to write, every single day, or almost every single day, as much as I can do within the limits created by my work schedule. It may be a sentence or a paragraph or a really, really badly-writted 10-page essay, but dammit, I am going to post. Fuck you, blockage. I’m done waiting.
So, for a start, I have to tell you that we spanked Rocky. Not like drag-your-pants-down, beat-you-with-a-switch spanking. More like, we were at the end of our rope with her utter disrespect and chronic bad attitude, and had tried everything we could think of, and it really seemed like she was almost asking for us to put a hard and solid wall in place for her. There is safety for children, in good, healthy boundaries.
We told her beforehand. We told her what it would look like: one warning, and if ignored, one whack on the back of her pants. She hated the idea, professed to being scared about it – and then sassed like never before. And she got herself a good whack on the booty.
Oh, the tears, the heartbreak! Then, several more whacks over the course of a week or so, and she was cured. End of story. She’s been a golden shining angel ever since, and I think she has been happier, along with her parents.
Sometimes, this parental decision thing is difficult business.