We spank the children. Yep, I'll just put it right out there like that. Please don't send any child psychologists over. (I was spanked as a child...I turned out fine. I never felt unloved or abused nor am I scarred in any way....in case you were wondering.) We save the spankings for only the most severe of infractions and the boldest acts of defiance. It is rare, but it does happen. And when it happens, it always happens with the wooden spoon from the kitchen.
Tonight while I was whipping up a quick batch of tacos, Richie came in and saw that I was making rice....with the wooden spoon. He gingerly picked it up from the stove. He gave it a good look over and then asked me in a hushed tone that whispered of that wistful combination of two-year-old curiosity and mischief...."Can I spank myself?"
I nearly lost it right there. Seeing as how this was all so funny to Mommy, the rest of the children joined in and we had a bit of a play spanking free for all which finally ended when Mommy got spanked a little too hard with the spoon and the rule was laid down right then and there that the only people ever allowed to spank Mommy are Nana and Poppy and that just doesn't happen anymore!!
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