Parenting: Oklahoma Style

Parenting: Oklahoma Style

Time and Place: Saturday morning at home on a cattle and horse ranch in the State of Oklahoma USA.

Hi, my name is Mike and I have two sisters, Megan and Michelle. We are triplets who are all home from college for the summer break. We jokingly call Michelle, “Big Sis” because she was born first. Just for record we look nothing alike which is a gift from heaven if you ask my sisters.

Dad grew up on our family ranch, married Mom and then they raised all three of us on the same ranch. Dad and Mom are traditionalists when it comes to parenting; they give us lots of love, hugs, attention and in our younger years an occasional paddling for serious misdeeds. I say our younger years but that isn’t exactly correct after today but I am getting ahead of myself.

Back a few years ago they discovered oil on our ranch. Please no Uncle Jed, Granny, Jethro and Ellie May jokes about moving the family to Beverly Hills. We built a new house on the ranch, everyone drives a new vehicle and all three of us kids have our college paid but that is about as fancy as we get. Once the oil revenues began pouring in Dad called a family meeting and made it crystal clear that none of us should ever consider ourselves better or superior just because we have a little money now.

It didn’t seem to change anybody in the family much except Michelle who rapidly grew accustomed to the first class life. Megan and I have always been the family challenges (Nothing serious but enough to test Mom & Dad’s patience to the limit a few times).

Michelle is the “Princess.” “The Good Triplett.” and “The why can’t you be more like Michelle sibling.” (LOL) Everything comes easy for her and she seemingly has Mom & Dad wrapped around her finger. That is until yesterday. Yesterday, Michelle finally crossed the line.

On Friday, Mom and Dad just picked up their favorite triplet from the local crossbar hotel (The city jail). Michelle and a couple of her sorority sisters visiting from California decided to try an unusual type of scavenger hunt. The problem being is that all of the items on their scavenger hunt list had to be shoplifted. Apparently her friends from California thought our hometown Oklahoma police were too backwoods to catch a trio of savvy shoplifters. They were wrong. As soon as her friends bonded out of our local penal facility they left for the Oklahoma City airport. Mom and Dad drove Michelle back to the ranch from the jail and hardly said a word.

Even though the folks occasionally paddle our bottoms, they never lose their temper, shout or scream at us or hit us in anger. While the parent’s flesh eating lawyers will most likely see that nothing about this shoplifting incident becomes a permanent record, that does not mean Michelle is free of consequences.

This morning Michelle is upstairs in her room casually watching television and texting her convict friends oblivious to the fact that Mom & Dad are discussing her fate. She has a tennis lesson (yes, we have a tennis court) scheduled in about an hour so she is dressed in a polo shirt and tennis dress.

Out of natural sibling curiosity and orneriness I secretly listened in on Mom & Dad in the kitchen discussing Michelle’s behavior when out of nowhere I heard Dad say those heart-stopping words: “I’ll tell you what that girl needs is a good old-fashioned PADDLING.” From then on I nearly broke my neck straining to hear every word. Dad & Mom quickly agreed that even though Michelle is in college, her recent serious behavioral indiscretion just earned her a trip over Dad’s knee. My heart about flew out of my chest as Dad called Michelle on the phone and told her to meet him in the home theater/family room. The home theater/family room location meant this might actually turn out to be a semi-public butt warming.

He never said a word to me as he passed by on the way to his office. Dad left the office door open just far enough I had a clear view of him reaching into a drawer, rummaging through a few things and pulling out an old handmade wood paddle. The memories of that implement of pain sent cold chills through me. That same paddle lit Megan’s butt and my butt on fire on more than one occasion.

Even though Megan and I received our fair share of paddlings growing up (Not that we didn’t deserve them plus some) it seems that Miss Perfect (Michelle) always managed to escape the sore bottom. A few years back, Megan and I both received our last paddlings about a month apart.

I got mine for unloading some words on Mom that as soon as I said them I wanted to immediately rewind my life for about 30 seconds in the past. It was my first and last paddling I ever got from Mom. Dad figured that since she was one that I insulted she should be one to even the score. Let me tell you she can swing that paddle every bit as hard as Dad.

To add insult to injury, after Mom finished with me, I opened the door to the office which directly connects to the home theater/family room and came face to face with Michelle, Megan and two of Megan’s friends from her cheerleading squad who were at the house to study with Megan. There was no doubt that my two sisters and Megan’s guests heard everything including my yelling, pleading for the paddling to stop and non-stop apologizing not to mention the sounds of each swat of that paddle as it contacted my butt.

I am also fairly certain I looked like the typical post-spanked miscreant complete with red eyes and bottom rubbing.

Just when I thought things couldn’t possibly get more embarrassing, Mom walks into the room and announces to Megan and everyone in the room: “Megan dear, I have to run into the city. Could you tell your Dad that after I finished paddling Mike I put the paddle back into the credenza drawer?” My face turned as red as my butt and I quickly vacated our family room but not before suffering the embarrassment of the girls giggles, whispers and smiles at my misfortune.

NOTE to SELF: Next time you are mad at Mom KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT…!.

I didn’t have to wait too long to even the score with Megan. Megan and I are two of a kind. We love to challenge our boundaries.

Dad bought her a brand new 4 wheel drive pickup for her birthday. Megan mentioned she was planning on taking the truck out to the undeveloped land for a test run. Dad explicitly told Megan not to take her truck anywhere nears the cliffs overlooking the river as the ground was not solid enough to support a truck. Of course she did and managed to roll her truck end over end down an embankment. Mom and Dad aged about 10 years during that event.

Megan only received a few bumps and bruises but no serious injures. For about two weeks afterwards, Dad never said a word to her about her deliberate defiance of his directive.
I guess he wanted to make sure her other bruises healed before he “bruised” her sitting area.

A day or two before Dad busted her butt; Megan told me she was sure that Dad decided that her injuries from the accident were punishment enough for her youthful indiscretion. That theory of Megan’s held true until early one evening Megan, Michelle and I were watching a movie in our home theater when Dad walked into the room and asked Megan to join him in his office.

She asked him why. He advised they needed to discuss her defying his directive to stay away from the cliffs

OOPS…..! BUSTED..! She DID NOT see that coming.

A few things almost guaranteed a butt warming in our household: blatant disrespect towards either Mom or Dad, deliberate defiance to a directive, safety concern or family standard of behavior and acting like we are better/superior because we are wealthy. Our parents never paddled us for trivial items, honest mistakes or other similar behavior.

If a paddling was earned it was due to a monumental screw up that was preventable, deliberate and defiant.

Megan’s face reflected sheer panic. She slowly climbed out of the recliner and followed Dad into the office.

Michelle and I just looked at each other and then Michelle smiled and remarked, “I am glad I didn’t drive my pickup off a cliff.”

After the standard delay associated with a stern lecture/discussion (mostly a lecture), Michelle and I heard the sounds of a young woman getting her bottom soundly paddled. Following the usual number of swats including those horrid pauses as Dad lowered her pajama bottoms and then another pause while he pulled her panties down. A loud chorus of tearful apologies always accompanied each stage of the paddling.

Eventually the sounds from the office faded to silence. A few minutes later, a very contrite and well punished looking Megan with teary red eyes, disheveled hair and both of her hands furiously rubbing her bottom, opened the office door and quickly departed for her room.

Megan always shed quite a few tears during her paddlings but I have to admit there were a few memorable times I did the same.

Now back to the present.

I could hardly believe it. Michelle, that brat of a perfect sister of mine, may finally be in line for her first paddling. This has been my secret brotherly revenge dream for years. After she left for college I assumed any chance of her receiving a paddling was lost.

While Megan & I would never want to see our sister beaten or injured nor would we ever let anyone really harm her, we would each give our life savings to just once see her lying face down over Dad or Mom’s lap kicking and hollering up a storm while getting her naughty spoiled bottom soundly paddled.

She always seemed to be in the area when Dad or Mom decided that a paddling was in order for Megan and I and always seemed to enjoy our predicament by smiling and giggling at the thought us being hauled over the knee.

Could this be our chance to smile and giggle at the sight of Michelle being soundly paddled? We will soon know for sure.

With as little fanfare as possible I make my way towards the home theater/family room. I don’t see the paddle so Dad may be planning on surprising Michelle. I hope against hope that Dad doesn’t order me out of the room. I nonchalantly meander in trying my level best to act very disinterested in anything Dad and Big Sis are discussing. No matter how hard I try to be inconspicuous, my intentions are about as obvious as a big forehead pimple on prom night.

So far so good, Dad doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about my presence.

Michelle argues with Dad and even sounded a tad defiant and cocky.

Suddenly, I remember I needed to share this experience with Megan. I pick up my cell phone and quickly text Megan.

“Megan get your rear down to the theater room, Dad is talking to Michelle about that shoplifting fiasco. I can’t say absolutely but believe it or not I think he might be planning on giving her a PADDLING.”

“Mike, if this is this a joke I will personally ring your neck.”

“No joke Megan.”

“I overheard Dad & Mom talking in the kitchen about paddling her.”

“I’ll be right there. Don’t let Dad start without me (LOL).”

“OK, but don’t appear too anxious. We don’t want Dad to pull the shades so to speak (LOL).”

In a heartbeat Megan casually joins me in the family room. Truth be known I think Dad knew exactly why Megan and I found our way to that room on this Saturday morning. I guess Dad figured we were owed this one.

Michelle wasn’t paying any attention to us. She was too busy trying to justify her actions. The longer Dad and Michelle’s conversation proceeded, the more defiant Michelle seemed to become. It was at this point I think she sealed her fate with a few choice words.

Michelle: “Dad, this is not that big a deal. I can throw a little money at it and I guarantee it will go away.”

Dad: “Michelle, ever since this family came into money your attitude has become increasingly intolerable.”

Michelle: “Dad, chill out, I said I was sorry.”

Dad: “Michelle you have turned into a classic spoiled brat. I think maybe its time I reverted back to a more traditional method of parenting.”

Michelle: “Oh is that right………………..Dad, I’m in college……………………………..What are you going to do, PADDLE ME?”

Both Megan and I looked at each other, covered our smiling faces with our hands and tried our level best not to give away our enjoyment of Michelle’s predicament.

I will always remember the next words out of Dad’s mouth:
“Michelle, I didn’t think I would ever have to say these words to you but, YES…………..I am going to paddle you!”

Michelle’s eyes about popped out of her head and she uttered every pre-paddling argumentative cliché on the books.

Very funny…Ha…Ha…………..

You’re kidding aren’t you…………………………

You wouldn’t dare………………………….

Dad, don’t be ridiculous………………….. I am all grown up……………………….

Dad, Megan and Mike are in the room…………………………………….Dad…………….Please…………….No….!

Dad’s strong arms reached over and quickly pulled Michelle face down across his lap.

Michelle was quite the site. Her pleated tennis skirt barely covered her doomed bottom. Her face exhibited the tsunami of emotions of someone about to have their backside soundly paddled.

Dad’s strong arms easily held Michelle firmly over his lap as he reached down into couch cushion and pulled out the paddle.

The look on Michelle’s face was classic as the paddle landed on her bottom for the first time. Her head shot up, her hair flew in every direction possible and she screamed loud enough to wake the dead. As each subsequent swat landed, she hollered and kicked up a storm, wildly waived her arms, promised to behave, apologized for everything she ever did wrong, wiggled and squirmed for all she was worth and desperately tried to cover her bottom.

Megan and I even felt a little of Michelle’s pain each time Dad’s strong ranch hardened arm landed that thin wood paddle on her virgin bottom. Dad had a very special technique with that paddle. He somehow was able to make that paddle bite us in the butt but never injure or cause any real bruises.

Just like during our paddlings he landed about an even number of swats to her clothes, her panties and then for good measure he always lowered her panties for a few well placed smacks to that already very sore bare bottom.

After her paddling subsided Dad quickly replaced her panties and assisted a tearful Michelle off his lap as she furiously tried to rub away the fiery sting in her bottom. After a couple of moments, Dad and Michelle share a few last words including a truly sincere apology from Michelle for both the shoplifting incident and her pre-spanking attitude. They hug and Dad departs the room.

I can’t say for sure but it almost seems Dad slipped Megan and me a little smile as he left. He knew what we were thinking.

Michelle looked back at her freshly chastised backside and continued to rub her bottom until she suddenly remembered Megan and I were still in the room. We couldn’t help the big ornery smiles that outlined our faces. We each thought to ourselves, “Michelle is now just one of us……………………………….The Princess has been dethroned.”

Quickly noticing our muffled giggles and obvious smiles, she utters something to the effect of, “Very funny…………..That hurt like h*ll…!””

Then she said something that we totally unexpected, “Dad’s right. I deserved that paddling. I have been waiting for years for this to happen. The look on your faces and all the hollering, kicking and crying you two did when you got paddled scared the daylights out me. I was so terrified of being paddled yet at the same time I was so jealous of you two for being brave enough to challenge your limits. I felt so guilty about that stupid shoplifting stunt but what could I do? One thing is for sure, a paddling hurts just as much if not more than I ever imagined.”

She smiled at Megan and me, rubbed her pleated tennis skirt covered bottom with both hands and then asked, “Are you guys hungry, let’s see what’s for breakfast?”

Megan and I looked at each other in amazement and walked to the breakfast room with Michelle.

As the three of us joined Mom and Dad at the breakfast table with Michelle emitting a pronounced, “OUCH” and facial grimace as her bottom contacted the hard wood chair.

Our whole family including Michelle shared a good laugh.

Mom even gave Dad a nice look of, “Well done.”

Megan and I turned towards each other and assured ourselves, “This is one great family.”
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