I looked at his face seriously for a moment, to show him I meant business, then picked him up and cuddled his small body against mine. He clung on like a little monkey as I hugged him for a few seconds – then we rejoined the party.
I am glad to say that Harry’s sore bottom did the trick, and he enjoyed the rest of his day. He even behaved well and sat nicely when we went to Pizza Hut afterwards for his birthday tea.
That evening, when the boys were all in bed, Polly asked me if I had in fact smacked Harry’s bottom earlier. Of course she already knew full well that I had – she was fishing for the details. Indulging her curiosity, I recounted the incident in the baby changing room, as she shook her head sadly and tutted. She sighed deeply. “Oh, that naughty little boy!” she muttered, as we turned our attention back to the television.
At the end of the programme, Polly yawned loudly. “I’m knackered after today – fancy an early night?” she suggested, trying to hide the glint in her eye. Not wanting to miss out on her good mood, I quickly agreed and we soon headed upstairs to our bedroom…