For an answer, I answered back (spanking him on each syllable): “Young man, do you decide how much more?” “No mommy!” he wailed, “I’m sorry!”
Satisfied, I lifted him off the stool and sat his sore bottom on the stool next to his brother. While they were sitting there crying, I went and got a bucket of water and two sponges. I was determined that they should clean up their own mess, little as they were.
When I thought they had sat on their sore bottoms for long enough, I pointed at the wall with the spanking spoon. “You were clever enough to draw on my wall, now be clever enough to clean up after yourselves!” Still sobbing from their spankings, they went to work. If I noticed either boy dawdling, they got a new smack on their bare bottom.
When they had done, they both got another dose of the naughty spoon, this time a smack for every year of their age. Once they had both been done, they were once again made to sit on their stools and stay there until I called them.
“Now then,” I said finally, “don’t you ever disobey Mommy again, do you understand?”