Birthday
I put a stop to it the year I turned twelve. I remember my brother coming in the room…
“Ready for your birthday spanking?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, “I’m done with those.”
“Mom! Dad! She won’t let me give her a birthday spanking!” he yelled as he left the room.
I don’t know where the tradition of birthday spankings began. Our family had always done them, one smack for each year of the birthday, plus one to grow on. All I know is, I had no intention of letting anyone spank me, in jest or otherwise.
The rest of the family came into the room.
“What’s this about being done with birthday spankings?” my dad asked.
“I’m too old for them,” I answered.
“Too old! You’re never too old for birthday spankings! Are you getting too big for your britches?” Dad asked.
“No, I’m just don’t want birthday spankings anymore.”
“You’re always so sensitive and touchy,” my mom put in. “It’s just a birthday spanking, it’s no big deal.”
“I still don’t want one.”
“Can’t have a birthday party without a birthday spanking,” Mom said. “Do you want to skip the birthday party?”
“I don’t care, as along as I don’t have to get spanked.” I stuck to my position. It’s not like she was talking about a real party with friends, anyway. She was just talking about a cake from a mix and blowing out the candles with her and Dad and my younger brother.
“It’s not fair! I want to give her a birthday spanking!” my brother yelled, and tried to grab me. At twelve, I was already my full adult height, and my 9 year old brother had no chance of physically forcing me to do anything. I grabbed his hand when he tried to hit me and held him at arm’s length.
“Don’t fight her,” my mom told my brother. “If she’s too good to participate in family traditions, let her go.”
So I never had to endure another birthday spanking. I did get the cake, after all, and presents, so the only price I had to pay for my victory was the sense of feeling apart from my family, of being the one who didn’t fit in, was too sensitive. Given that I felt that way anyway, it was worth it.
2 Comments:
Good for you! :)
My feelings of "apartness" from my family began more in adulthood, which I think has it's own issues. I just feel sad thinking of 12 year old you, being made to feel "not quite right" for standing up for yourself.
Reminds us that this parenting gig has far reaching repercussions, doesn't it?
you brat i`d have put you over my knee and spanked you for your birthday anyway then your mom would have done it then your brother would have. it was just tradition not a spanking for being a bad girl
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