When I felt my son was actually calm enough to actually listen, I lifted him from the changing table and stood him on the ground in front of me. I began to tell him off for the way he had behaved, his selfishness and his immaturity. Even though he must have seen how angry I was, I think he believed I would not give him a spanking on his birthday.
He was wrong. He started to protest in shock and fear as I lifted him from the ground, sat back down on the plastic chair and lowered his trousers and pants.
“No daddy!” he continued to beg, as I laid him face down across my lap and began smacking his bottom. I gave him 12 hard smacks in total, turning both cheeks of his bottom a deep pink colour. I felt confident that his loud crying and the sound of the spanking would be lost amongst the general racket of the soft play area.
When Harry eventually stopped crying, I stood him in front of me and raised his underwear and trousers. I knelt down to his level and firmly gripped his upper arms. “Are you going to have any more tantrums, Harry?” I asked. He quickly and desperately replied that he would not.