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| Subject: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | |
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Author: Jerry |
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Date Posted: 22:31:56 03/09/26 Mon There is something wrong with me. It's not just my depression, which has taken a turn for the worse, this time for a tangible reason. I had to ask my mom for permission to take another Buspar pill for the first time in a long while. No, there's something else wrong with my brain. There's a total short circuit between my cortex, the thinking part and the doing part. As I sit here and think about what happened I can totally see that there is no flippin' reason for me to do what I did. I'm so worried about my future and it may be too late. I'm actually on the verge of tearing up right now as I think about it. I got a pretty bad spanking yesterday. I totally deserved it! What happened is this: Last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday we had a wind storm here. Not a tree-felling tornado wannabe, but strong enough to rip twigs off the trees and coat the lawn in a layer of leaves kinda like organic snow. This is a bad thing. Never mind that the yard looked like a disaster zone, if you leave the leaves there for too long they block the sun and the grass dies. They had to be raked up, no possible question about it. What's more, yesterday, Sunday, was the time to do it since the wind had quit and I was home from school and dad from work. Maintaining the yard is one of my chores. Usually I don't mind it all that much so long as it's just mowing and trimming, but raking a ton of leaves is another kettle of fish entirely, especially since the wind cleaned out last summer's inventory of pittosporum seed pods out of our huge tree. Those suckers are sticky so they cling to passing animals and distribute the seeds. Of course they stick to anything else, too, so raking them up is a terrible chore. I hate it! To their credit, my parents realized that this was too much for a single boy to handle alone so they agreed to help: a family project. What could be fairer than that? Therefore, at breakfast yesterday my dad told me to get out of my pajamas and into my yard clothes and meet him and mom outside to get to it. So at that point the situation was as follows: The wind storm was nobody's fault. You can't order the wind about, so there was nobody to get mad at and expect to clean up the mess. The mess had to be cleaned up, no two ways about it. Sunday was the best time to do it and it would probably take all day, so best to start right away. All three of us would help, it wasn't unfairly left to me. Question for the kids here: Given the above what would you have done? Of course! Your brains work! Not me. My doing brain part looked at the upcoming work and decided nothing doing. Totally ignoring the thinking part it had me tell my dad "Later, dad..." My dad said, "Later, sure, about ten minutes later. Get dressed and meet your mother and me in the yard. Now!" "No," I told him. I'm not going to give you the play-by-play of the rest of the conversation. You already don't think much of me as it is, I don't want to admit what a total brat I was. Suffice it to say that it quickly dissolved into disrespect. You all know what happens to boys who disrespect their parents, right? Bare bottom time! Sure enough. My dad got mad and told me that I hadn't been getting spanked much lately so I was long overdue. He then told me to get to my room take off my PJ's and wait for him to bring the paddle. For once my doing brain acquiesced to my cortex and I did as I was told or I might have gotten the big lexan with the holes. I barely had time to hang my PJs on their hook behind my bedroom door when dad barged in with the paddle in hand. He ordered me to lay face down on my bed totally naked and proceeded to paddle me - hard. I got twice my age - 34 swats with particular attention to my sit spots and upper thighs where it really, really stings! When he was finished I was bawling up a storm. I barely heard him as he ordered me to stop crying, get into my yard clothes and outside and I had ten minutes to do that or he would come in with the big lexan and give me a real blistering. That put the fear of God even into my doing brain and I hurried to get dressed, still crying. My work clothes are not intended to be for looks, so if they get a bit frayed they are not replaced anytime soon. That means that I have partly outgrown my current set and the trousers are a tight fit. Just what you don't want when your butt is stinging from a spanking! I would willingly have raked the yard in my PJ bottoms - or even with no pants on at all - but mom would have never agreed to that so I winced as I zipped up my fly and cursed that I was going to have to do lots of physical labor giving my tight pants ample opportunity to irritate my flaming butt. Then it got even worse. We hadn't been at it long before we filled the yard waste bin and had lots more to go. I suggested that we fill the trash bin and recycle bin but dad nixed that idea saying that they would be too heavy to empty into the yard waste bin after it had been picked up That was a moot point anyway because we had more leaves than even those two bins held. There was no hope, we were going to have to use trash bags. Of course, we didn't have any on hand. Dad looked at me and told me that his wallet was on his dresser and I was to go retrieve a twenty, bike over to the store and buy some bags. Bike? I looked at my dad, horrified. "Hey dad," I complained, "you just spanked me good. I can't sit on a bike seat!" He had no sympathy. "Tough buns, Jerry," he said, "you should have thought of that before you mouthed off. You can peddle standing up! Get to it!" I don't know if the "tough buns" pun was intentional or not. It was not appreciated. So I grabbed the cash and mounted my bike. On the way to the store and back I inadvertently sat down more than once. Each time it felt like getting another paddle swat [insert unapproved explicative here]. When I got to the store they had only two boxes of bags left - everybody was raking leaves - so I bought both of them 'cause running out might mean that I'd have to bike to every other store in town looking for more and that was unthinkable. When the clerk saw my purchase she asked "Windy day, huh?" "Yeah, windy," I replied sarcastically. I made it home and we filled 5 bags. Now I have to remember to dump one bag a week into the yard waste bin as it is emptied. Sure wish that the trash pickers-up would allow us to put out bags of leaves on special occasions like this but they have the exclusive contract with the city so no competition to encourage them to consider their customers. When I woke up this morning my butt was still sore and I had a bad time sitting in class, but the red was gone by the time PE came around so no one saw anything. So there you have it. There is no excuse for my behavior. Am I ever going to grow up and act like an adult? Or is it too late? I feel so bad! [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
| Subject | Author | Date |
| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Romain (to Jerry) | 02:32:03 03/10/26 Tue |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Sara | 11:47:20 03/10/26 Tue |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | MattT | 15:16:09 03/10/26 Tue |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Mr Simons to Jerry | 16:30:11 03/10/26 Tue |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Ginger | 16:44:08 03/10/26 Tue |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Justin | 17:44:23 03/10/26 Tue |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Tyler to Jerry | 05:12:10 03/11/26 Wed |
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| Re: I Copped a Bad One Yesterday | Elijah | 11:24:50 03/15/26 Sun |
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