by PC Marks

Created on: May 23, 2008   Last Updated: June 11, 2008

"A Decision to be Made"

Some may think my decision' warped, others may call it dry humor," most of us with children will enjoy it and reminisce on their own trying times.

I heard somewhere along the way that spanking a child was never necessary. I do not encourage or discourage a parent's belief. I can only tell you my personal story.

My husband and I were home in Ohio visiting on thirty day leave from Kitzigen, Germany. Junior was two years old. Everything was a learning experience. We knick named him the tape recorder.

The first night in town, my mother had gone all out preparing a dinner to include my favorite, cherry cheese cake.

Junior dug his little fingers in the cakes, somehow managed to fall head first in to it and sat down as if no one would notice his new cherry coated face.

During our visit, Junior had taken to hiding behind his grandfather's chair. What would follow was a cute game of peek-a-boo that sent the sweetest laughter into the air.

A few hours later I returned to the living room to find dad asleep. I looked behind the chair. Junior wasn't there. "Where's the baby?" I asked my mother who was also dozing off in her recliner. "I sat him on the pot," she groggily responded.

His completely nude body quietly sat on the toilet. When I removed him, the trial size powder container, toilet paper, toothbrushes and soap were all floating.

I warned my two year old darling saying, "This doesn't belong in there," as I removed the items. "Big boys no better than to use the potty to play," I said. "This is unacceptable behavior," I chastised while my husband and other family members unsuccessfully attempted to stifle laughter.

The next day, my girlfriends and parents were at work. My husband was visiting his relatives. Junior and I was not going to waste a beautiful day, we headed to the mall.
Within seconds of entering, he took off pushing and shoving his way. I found myself apologizing and excusing us all the way up the escalator to the second floor department store. Sternly, I grabbed his little arm and demanded he behave.

Inside the store within seconds of what I thought was a good talking to,' he knocked over one rack of clothing, snatched a sucker from an infant and began running through the store.
Once I cornered him, I scolded him, "You take off or touch anything else and I am going to beat your ass," I said through gritted teeth barely above a whisper.

He looked up at me with those big dreamy brown eyes. I backed off.

We proceeded to the register. While purchasing clothing I casually talked to the cashier releasing Junior's hand to fork over my charge card. She rang the items and was holding the card out toward me. A horrified expression came across the middle aged woman's face. As I turned in the direction of her gaze, I saw one rack of clothes being spent from within.
Immediately I snatched my purchases. Then retrieved Junior from the center of the spinning rack. Baby and bags in tow, I headed for the down escalator.

The tape recorder (Junior), shouted all the way down the stairs, "You gone beat my ass, mommy? Huh, You gone beat my ass?"

I was mortified as mall patrons snickered. Others looked as though they wanted to report me for child abuse.

I strapped Junior in his car seat, explained that his behavior was unacceptable and paddled his little legs two or three times.

Today, Junior has achieved a Masters in Graphics Designs. He's married to a sweet young lady and works for a fortune 500 company. Daily he calls me with an embarrassing event of The III displaying the same precocious, rambunctious spirit he inherited from his dad.

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