Along with the extended bedtime came the privilege of doing my work anywhere in the house I wanted during school hours. The younger children in my family have always been forced to sit at the kitchen table so my mother can keep an eye on everyone, but at age 14 I was given the responsibility to roam the house. I could do my math work in the living room while watching daytime talk shows, my English reading outside under a tree on warm days, and I could study for history lounging out on my parents’ queen size bed- enjoying the whole bedroom to myself. Of course, as soon as I started to slack off I’d be back in the kitchen with Zac and the girls. Turning 14 was also supposed to grant me the privilege of more mature punishments like groundings and manual labor, but to my disappointment, my parents decided just a month before my 14th birthday that spanking would remain the household punishment for everyone, due to our increasingly busy schedule and supposedly increasing attitudes. I’d begged multiple times for my parents to make the main punishment a being grounded, but they never really seemed to go for the idea.

Turning 14 also meant terrible things like more serious Saturday chores. Until my birthday, my only chores on the weekend were taking out the garbage, vacuuming the house, cleaning the bathrooms, and cleaning my bedroom. Being 14 meant I also had to mow the lawn every and water all the flowers every Sunday. If there was snow outside I was the person who had to bundle up and shovel the wide driveway and the endless walk.

Best of all though, turning 14 meant I was allowed to have a birthday party with my friends. My parents cannot afford or handle throwing us birthday parties every year. If they did, they’d be throwing birthday parties six times a year. They’ve reserved the occasion for ages 7, 10, 14, 16, and 18. I hadn’t had a birthday party in 4 years, and I was itching to have one to show off our new video game system. Although my parents said I could only invite 10 friends, they eventually caved and switch the number to 20 to accommodate my growing number of fans that came to local shows and claimed they “loved us”. I just couldn’t pass up the attention, and sent out invitations to about 10 of those girls who I’d spent the previous months flirting with on the telephone.

The day of my party I was a wreck. I was sick with a cold, which my parents suspected might end up to be the flu. I had hardly gotten a wink of sleep the night before due to nerves and excitement.

“Why don’t you take a nap this afternoon?” My mother kept saying that Saturday afternoon, “Get your chores done and then go sleep for a few hours. People won’t start arriving until seven.”

But taking a nap on the afternoon of my birthday party just felt lame. I could just picture it in my head.

“So what’d you do today?” My friends would ask as I’d take their coats and thank them for the brightly wrapped present they were handing me.

“Napped for awhile.”

They’d wonder why they were at my party again. They’d question just how cool I really was.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I told my mother all afternoon, half-assing my way through my chores. I was grumpy and nervous, and worst of all, I was on a mission to prove just how much of a cool 14-year-old I was.

When my friends arrived I perked up and began greeting them at the door. I graciously welcomed all 12 girls and 8 boys, while simultaneously sending my parents annoyed looks because my siblings were supposed to be in their bedroom watching television- not running around in the living room where my friends were supposed to hang out.

“Taylor, what do you think that present is?” my 6-year-old sister, Avery, would ask as each of my friends arrived.

“Mom!” I called into the kitchen after the 12th present was given to me, and the 12th question was asked.

“Avery…don’t bother your brother,” my mother called back, already knowing what I was complaining about.

I looked down at her and glared, “Did you hear her? Don’t bother me. Run along now.”

I grinned smugly at my friend David who was just arriving and ignored Avery’s hurt, perplexed expression. Usually I hugged and played with her, treating her like a princess.

After several more complaints to my mother, she finally pulled me aside.

“Taylor, the little ones are excited that your friends are here. They want to see everyone too and they want to stay out for the cake. Give them a break.”

“It’s my party!” I cried from the bathroom where we were talking, “This is the only day of the year that I ask you to lock them up in their rooms. Can’t you just give me one day of sibling-free fun?”

She sighed.

“Please mom… it’s my party…”

Finally, she nodded, “I’ll set Jessica, Avery, and Mackenzie up with a movie in my bedroom. But Zac stays. Don’t you hurt his feelings either.”

I sighed, “But he’s trying to make everyone play Uno with him. I don’t want Uno cards at my birthday party, Mom.”

I was being a brat. A spoiled brat. But since it was the only day of the year that I insisted everything be my way, I considered myself justified.

“I’ll confiscate the Uno cards. But Zac stays.”

I huffed and closed my eyes, “Fine.”

“I know it’s your party, but it doesn’t give you a right to have an attitude, Taylor.”

“Okay!” I said, nodding hard to make her believe that I understood. I could hear the chatter of my friends and I just wanted to return to everyone.

She didn’t say anything more so I took that as my cue to re-join the group. They all started talking to me at once when I returned, the girls asking me all about recording the new album and the boys asking when we were eating pizza.

As if on cue, my father called from the kitchen that everyone should come and get slices. We all ran for the kitchen and began carrying plates of pizza back to the living room where people sat on the couch, fold up chairs, and the edges of the coffee table.

“Pepperoni!” Zac grinned, reaching for the final piece in a box.

I didn’t think much of it until the cute girl next to me, Jennifer, said, “Awww. Is that the last pepperoni?”

“Sorry,” my dad shrugged, “I figured most of you ate cheese pizza so I didn’t get a lot with toppings.”

Zac tossed the slice of pizza down on a paper plate and shrugged at the girl, “Sorry. Beat you to it.”

“Zac, it would be nice of you to give it to her. She is a guest,” my father reminded as Zac brought the pizza to his mouth to take his first bite.

He coughed onto the pizza and then turned and looked at the girl, “I’m sorry. Would you like it?”

She shuddered and shook her head and Zac smiled triumphantly to himself.

“You are so completely stupid, Zac,” I mumbled, helping the girl next to me get a piece of cheese pizza.

“Taylor called me stupid,” Zac pointed out to my father. He was making it a point to be extremely obnoxious, probably intimidated and nervous with all the older kids around him.

Before my Dad could say anything, Isaac came to the rescue, putting Zac in a headlock and saying in some creepy, mobster voice, “Disband the pepperoni pizza and no one gets hurt.”

Zac laughed merrily as Isaac playfully dragged him into the living room with him, winking at me as he went.

Isaac managed to distract Zac with video games for the next half an hour while I chatted aimlessly with my friends. Sure, Zac was sitting there making stupid race car noises as he raced Isaac on the screen, but for the most part I could ignore him.

Somewhere in between joke telling, card playing, and cake cutting, my friend David found the family karaoke machine stashed behind the t.v.

“We have to do this!” he grinned pulling out the microphone and turning it on, delighted to see it was working, “This would be hilarious.”

The girls wanted to do karaoke too so I grudgingly agreed. I wondered how cool karaoke is at your 14th birthday party, but if it made my friends happy then I was willing to set it up.

“Can you guys turn off the video games?” I asked Isaac and Zac, “We need the tv so we can play the video that goes with the karaoke.”

“Sure,” Isaac said, keeping his eyes glued on the screen though and trying to cut Zac off in Mario-Kart.

“We’re not done,” Zac replied, “Wait until we finish this race. There’s like two more rounds until we find out the winner.”

The fact that he had even asked me to wait when it was my birthday party pissed me off to no end. I was already being lenient by letting him stick around! In a moment I fury, I stood up from the couch and walked over to the Nintendo, clicking it off in one swift, determined motion.

“What did you do that for?” Zac gasped, glaring at me.

“Because I want to use the damn television so my friends can do karaoke, and it’s my birthday party.”

Zac looked like he was on the verge of tears. You never mess with Zac and his video games. He is the type of person who needs to see a result, a satisfying outcome, for his efforts, and I knew he was furious that he had raced for so long and not been able to finish. His frustration was obvious.

“I’m telling Mom,” he finally said, shaking his head and getting up.

I glared after him and looked at Isaac who sat there without saying anything.

“He’s being a brat,” I finally concluded.

“So are you.”

“Taylor, put the video in!” One of the girls said to me, holding the microphone in her hand.

Within a moment, I had forgotten my argument with my brother and sat down to laugh at all the people standing up and singing cheesy songs. For two hours we did karaoke until people started to get bored of the same people going up and performing time and time again. I refused to perform, grinning at them and saying that I saved my performances for paid gigs. My mother never did come out to yell at me about the video game incident.

“Taylor,” my mom finally came into the living room and put her hand on my shoulder which made me flinch. Fourteen year old boys did not let their mothers get touchy feely, lovey dovey with them. “Do you want to open everyone’s gifts? It’s 10 and their parents are coming at 11, so you might want to start now.”

Everyone cheered, happy to get a break from the glass-shattering, amplified voices. I opened gifts, said thank you’s, and piled the cards up next to me so I could spend the next day writing out thank you cards I knew my mother would make me send right away.

By 11:15 most of the party had left. All that remained was Isaac, me, David, Jake, and of course… Zac. David and Jake were planning on staying the night. We all laid out on the couch and ate the stale chips on the coffee table.

“Taylor, I put some sleeping bags out for all of you so you can sleep in the living room tonight. You can stay up until whenever you want and there are snacks in the pantry.”

This was a rarity, and I was enjoying every second of hearing it.

“There should be four sleeping bags so that’ll be enough.”

I paused. Four?

“Is Isaac sleeping out with us?” I asked.

“Zac wanted to, so I told him he could.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, “What?”

“Taylor…”

Zac sat there on the leather chair listening to every word, his eyes darting back and forth between my mother and me.

“No way!” I cried.

“What did we talk about?”

“Mom, we don’t want Zac hanging around us. Zac is 11 years old and he doesn’t need to be out here with us teenagers. In fact, Zac should be in bed.”

“It’s a Saturday!” He contributed.

“Shut up!” I snapped at him. It didn’t matter what he said. His voice alone was infuriating me. I resented his existence with every fiber in my body.

“Jordan Taylor!” My mom reprimanded me, right there in front of my friends. I felt two inches tall.

“I hate him. I really hate him…” I shook my head, and slumped down in the couch.

“Zac… why don’t you just sleep in our room? Let Taylor have his fun…” Isaac tried.

Zac glared at the wall, refusing to look at any of us. The thought didn’t even occur to me that maybe he wanted to sleep in the living room with us all was because he wanted to feel included. Maybe he wanted to feel just as cool as me. All I could think about though, at that moment, was that Zac had an agenda to ruin my life.

I looked at David and Jake. I could tell from their expressions that they didn’t want Zac hanging around anymore than I did, and it only made me more adamant.

“Zac is not sleeping out here. End of story,” I told my mother.

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. She pointed at me, “You. Up.”

I looked around at my friends looking for moral support. I felt humiliated that I was going to have to get up and let my mom lecture me in the other room, and that they were all going to know about it.

“Jordan Taylor. Get up from the couch right now.” I sighed and stood up, glowering at Zac as I passed him. I followed my mother into the kitchen which I knew was in earshot. I heard Isaac start making conversation- my life saver as usual.

“You do not speak to me like that,” she said when we entered the kitchen. I looked at her eye to eye. We were exactly the same height, and it was supposed to feel good to not to have to look up at my mother anymore when she scolded me, but the words cut just as deep as they did when I was just a young child.

I refused to speak. I crossed my arms at my chest and raised an eyebrow.

“You do not look at me like that.”

I didn’t budge. I was livid.

“Do I need to wash your mouth out?”

“No.” “Then prove it and be respectful.”

But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do it. I was so angry at her! I was so angry at Zac! It was my day. Only mine. And everyone kept interfering with it. The more disobedient I became, the angrier I became. The increased anger only lead to more disobedience, and I realized it was all just a vicious cycle.

I remained standing there stubbornly with a challenging look on my face, not saying a word.

“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me over to the sink. I refused to show emotion. I kept my arms crossed despite her yanking and stood there at the sink. Inside, I was dreading every second of it. What if my friends walked in on their supposedly cool friend getting his mouth washed out by his mother and gagging mercilessly? I dreaded the after taste that would linger in my mouth for the rest of the night.

My mom picked up the small hand soap dispenser and held it to my mouth, “Open. And if you don’t…”

I opened before she could even threaten me. She pumped three squirts of hand soap into my mouth and set it down on the counter.

“Lets go. Swish it around so it’s clean. I don’t want any attitude left after this. I’ve had more than enough of your back talking for one day. This is not a good way to start this year for you…”

I could feel my eyes prick with tears as the soap slid towards the back of my throat. This was not how I wanted to spend my birthday party. I felt myself gag and I leaned over the sick, attempting to hold everything in my stomach down. I looked at my mother helplessly but she just crossed her arms like I had before.

To make the situation worse, I heard the patter of feet behind me. My 11-year-old brother stood in the kitchen now in his plaid pajamas pants and an over-sized Helmrich and Paine t-shirt from my fathers work. He watched me with interested eyes and then leaned against my mother, wrapping his arms around her waist in a hug. My brother has always been the affectionate one in the family, but I knew his current love for my mother was because of the fact that she was punishing me.

“Spit and rinse,” she finally told me after a few minutes of my suffering. She rubbed Zac’s back and ran her fingers through his soft hair as I spit it all into the sink and drank from the cup she had gotten out for me.

“What do you have to say to Zac?”

I was stunned. I didn’t know I was going to have to apologize to him. He tried to look so innocent pressed up against my mothers side like that, his eyes beginning to look sleepy. But I knew better.

I spoke through the bitter taste in my mouth despite how much I didn’t want to. “Zac, I think it was completely ridiculous of you to crash my party like you did. I didn’t want you around in the first place, but for you to steal our pizza, refuse to turn off your video games, and then ruin my sleepover…well I think it’s just really immature. I don’t want you around. And I’m not going to stand here and apologize to you like Mom wants me to.”

I glanced at her.

“Because I’m not sorry.”

I was shocked when I saw tears form in his eyes. I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to look at him crying because I didn’t want to accept that perhaps I had really hurt his feelings. I paused and recollected the past months. The older I got, the younger Zac felt and I realized I had been pushing him away since Christmas- trying my best to drill it into his head how little he was and how mature I was. Perhaps I had been hurting his feelings for the past months when I always told him how annoying he was. It killed me to think that I had been doing that to him, and I couldn’t face him. I also couldn’t face my mother who looked livid. So I turned, and I walked away.

“Taylor!” My mother yelled as I turned and headed for the living room.

I ignored her.

“You need to stop walking and come back here!”

I flinched as my friends looked up and heard her. Then, without any contemplation or hesitation, I walked into the living room shouting, “Fuck you!” over my shoulder.

My friends looked shocked. Isaac looked shocked. I was shocked with myself, and almost pleased with how impressed my friends looked. They had expressions on their face of admiration and shock. I couldn’t think much longer about it though. Before I knew it my mother was storming after me.

She walked over to me in the living room and grabbed me, whipping me around and laying three hard spanks on the seat of my jeans. I gasped and tried to fight her off, simply horrified my friends were watching it all. I could see the interest in their eyes as she struggled to reach around me. She gave me a few more swats and then grabbed my wrists, turning me to look at her.

“You have crossed the line!” She hissed, “You’re going to see your dad because you deserve a spanking far harder than what I could give you.”

I began crying, right there in front of everyone. I grasped for her hands and took her hand in mine, squeezing it and staring at her through teary eyes.

“Please, Mom, please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” I choked on the words, becoming completely oblivious and yet painfully aware of our audience all at the same time. I suddenly became such a polite, obedient boy with just those few spanks and the humiliating announcement.

“Momma, I’m so sorry. I’ll apologize to Zac. I’ll do all of Zac’s chores for next week…month! Momma… Ground me! Ground me instead!” I cried, staring into her eyes and shaking her hand forcefully for emphasis.

“There is no talking your way out of this one! I gave you a chance! I gave you a chance to apologize to Zac and fix things back in the kitchen. You were completely disrespectful to me and I only washed your mouth out hoping you would shape up without a spanking. But apparently that isn’t going to happen.”

I began to start shaking my head pathetically, “I will shape up…please, Momma…I will shape up. Just ground me and give me one more chance.”

She let go of my hands and shook her head. That single shake let me know my fate was decided. I was to get a spanking while my two friends waited for me.

“Mom…” Isaac began, “Couldn’t Dad deal with Taylor tomorrow? Let him just have fun with his friends tonight…”

“I am the parent,” my mom reminded him angrily, “And I’m done with being easy on Taylor because he does nothing but take advantage of it. Go see your father.”

“Mom,” Isaac persisted. I was grateful despite the fact that I knew it wouldn’t help matters. Deep down, I think I hoped it must, just maybe, help me a little bit. But logically I knew my fate was decided and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“Do you want to too?!” My mother gasped at my big brother. She had clearly lost her temper at this point.

Isaac shook his head in embarrassment and spoke quietly, “No.”

“Go see your father, Taylor. Go on.”

I broke down into another fit of tears and plead with my eyes one final time. But the icy glare she returned showed no remorse.

I glanced at my friends despite how hard it was. They sat there wide eyed, sitting up straight on the couch and looking back and forth between everyone.

“Sorry guys… I’ll be back…” I choked out miserably, and turned and sobbed my way to my parents bedroom, trying my best to conceal my sobs bu completely unable to. The entire situation was devastating. I had just wanted to have an amazing day and a cool party and here I was getting spanked all because of my stupid little brother who had caused problems…

I wanted to go back in time. I wanted to go back to the afternoon and have taken a nap so I wouldn’t have been so snappy all night. I wanted to go back to the beginning of the party and just ignored Zac. Most of all, I wanted to go back five minutes and take back the nasty way I spoke to my mother. I had actually told my mother “fuck you”- the most vulgar of all cusses. Despite the reasons I was in general, I still saw it was Zac’s fault. Had Zac not provoked me, I would have never gotten myself into this predicament! My mind kept drifting back to what I said to my mother and my stomach dropped all over again. The thought hit me hard as I knocked on my parents bedroom.

“Yes?”

“Dad,” I sobbed, “Can I come in?”

I noticed then that my mother was behind me, making sure she saw me through everything and he knew the complete story so he could properly punish me.

“Come in,” he said.

I opened the door and saw him sitting on the bed reading and looking nervous because of my crying.

“What happened?” He said immediately.

“Tell him what happened. Tell him what you did,” my mother said, pushing my forward a bit.

I stepped into the room and wiped at my crying eyes with the sleeves of my shirt, trying to compose myself. I knew I’d be screaming and crying all over again as soon as he put me over his knee, and if I didn’t calm down I’d probably have a heart attack after it all ended.

“I…” I said, and then turned to look at her. I looked back at my father, trying to keep myself calm as I told him exactly what I had said to my mother. “I told Mom…” It was just too much to admit. I broke down in tears again and then concluded, “F you…but I didn’t say it like that…”

Dad raised his eyes and sat up in his bed, looking at my mother for a confirmation.

“I washed his mouth out in the kitchen because he was talking about… washed it out away from everyone and asked him to apologize to Zac for his attitude tonight. And he refused. He stood there and he made Zac cry, Walker. And then he walked away and I told him to come back and over his shoulder he used the F word and then sat down on the couch with his friends.”

My father got up from where he was sitting and sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his palms on his knees.

“It’s exactly what you and I were talking about, Walker,” she said, and I think I heard her voice tremble as she too struggled to fight tears, “He thinks he has to impress people by acting up and being disrespectful. There’s no doubt in my mind he would have done it if his friends weren’t there.”

It pleased me, and worried me that my parents talked about me like this behind my back. It showed they cared, but it also showed they were watching every move I made every second of the day.

“Walker, we’ve been too easy on him.”

“I know,” my dad said solemnly, “This would have never happened if we hadn’t been.”

I broke down into another sob of tears. So many emotions were going through my head.

“You are going to be one sorry boy,” my father sighed.

“Can we please do this tomorrow!” I begged, “Please! You’ve always said you respect privacy about spankings and they’re all out there and…”

I fell into a fit of sobs, covering my face with my hands. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to just disappear for awhile until my parents had calmed down and maybe forgotten about it completely. How badly I just wanted to go back and make the right decision!

“No,” my father shook his head, “I think this is exactly what you need right now. And I’m not going to wait a minute longer to discipline you. You should have been spanked the second you began back talking this morning. Get the brush from the bathroom.”

I had to force myself to put one foot in front of the other and walk towards my parents’ bathroom. I knew that the brush would hurt more than just his hand, and I would cry harder. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind my friends would be tuned in to the entire hell. I found the horrible hairbrush on the bathroom counter and walked back over to my parents, my entire body thunderous with sobs. My chest heaved as I tried to catch me breath. I was always a big crier when it came to spankings. I just couldn’t help myself. Between the shame and disappointment, the humiliation, the anticipated pain…it was all too much for me.

“Let’s go!” my father snapped when I stopped and stood far away from him defensively. I took a step back in fear when he said it, but then forced myself to walk towards him. I handed him the brush when I got closed and squeezed my eyes closed as he began undoing my pants and pushing them down.

Standing there with my pants down, he pulled me in between his legs so I was just barely looking down on my him as he sat on the bed. He held me tightly by the wrists and glared at me.

“Do you understand why you’re being spanked? Do you understand all of your offenses?”

I let out another sob and nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Tell me them.”

If this wasn’t painful enough, he was going to make me incriminate myself even more.

“Get a hold of yourself. I’m not going to spank you until you calm down.” I was surprised by how calm he was about it. I suppose that’s what comes with years of disciplining 7 naughty children. I knew Isaac had said a similar thing to my parents only a year earlier. I should have learned my lesson when I watched Isaac be spanked in the living room in front of the entire family. Of course, I rarely learned my lesson the easy way.

“Tell me why exactly I’m spanking you. You need to understand why I need to do this.”

I swallowed and closed my eyes again, trying to will myself to focus on my breathing and calm myself down. My father gently rubbed my wrists with his thumbs as he sat there patiently waiting for me.

“Walker, I think the main thing he did was-”

“Let him tell me, Di,” my father said to my mom who looked like she just wanted to see me punished and sorry for my actions. She looked fuming still. “Taylor, you need to tell me now. What were your offenses?”

I sniffed in, trying not to cry anymore, and cleared my throat. “I made Zac cry… made him feel left out… but he was bothering me all day and if he hadn’t been so… clingy I wouldn’t have done what I…”

I couldn’t finish the statement. My father’s face tightened and he pulled me close to him, pulling me over his lap and yanking down the back of my boxers. I was so confused. One second I had been trying to explain and the next my father was angrily spanking me with his hand! I truly did, at that point, see my trouble as having been caused by Zac. I began sobbing again as my father spanked me 20 or so hard times with his hand.

Finally, he pulled me to standing again, and grabbed my wrists again. I stood there looking ridiculous and humiliated with my red bottom hanging out facing my mother and tears streaming down my face at my father.

“This is not Zac’s fault! This is not your mother’s fault for punishing you, this is not Zac’s fault for being around- you and ONLY you have gotten yourself into this situation. Do you understand me? You are here because of decisions you, Jordan Taylor Hanson, made! Do I make myself clear?!”

I nodded and cried. He was right. They were factors, but in the end, I was the only person who could prevent this. I thought back to Isaac’s birthday party in November when he turned 16. Not only did he have Zac around, but he had me around! I was a pretty cool little brother, but I was still a little brother nonetheless and yet Isaac handled it maturely and obediently. How would I have felt if Isaac has insulted me and kicked me out all night at his birthday party? I remember just wanting to fit in with his friends who drove and watched R-rated movies. I felt nervous, I remembered, trying to seem cool enough around them. But Isaac was nice and introduced Zac and me to them all.

If Isaac could have handled the situation maturity, there was no reason I couldn’t have. It was very possible for me to have been nice to Zac and still have enjoyed myself. In fact, had I behaved myself and just been tolerant of my little brother, I would be having a much better time. I would have no humiliating situation to explain to my friends, no crying little brother, no furious parents… oh how badly the longing was to go back in time and rectify the situation.

“You do not make excuses for your misbehavior! Do I make myself clear?” My father demanded, yanking me forward a bit.

“Yes!” I yelped, nodding in panic. “Yes sir. I understand.”

“Tell me why you’re going to be spanked!”

Now he was angry. I closed my eyes and did the slow breathing thing again, fortunate when it helped me calm down so I could try again to explain to my furious father.

“I was so unfair to Zac… making him feel bad and unwanted. I feel terrible that I made him cry Dad…I do…I would have felt terrible if Isaac had done something like that to me,” I choked out earnestly, letting out a sob, “And I should have never said that to Mom. I can’t even believe I did…”

“What else?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Talking back,” I replied quickly, wanting to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible. “I did a lot of that today…”

He nodded solemnly, “Do you deserve to be spanked?”

I nodded hard, trying to suppress the threatening tears.

“With what?”

“The brush, sir,” I choked, knowing the quickest way to get the punishment over with.

“I hope you realize you are the only one who got yourself into this situation, and you’re getting exactly what you deserve.”

He grabbed me again and pulled me back over his legs, which caused me to yelp. Once he had me positioned to spank me the hardest, he picked up the brush and began spanking my already flaming backside.

I wasn’t even calm for the first spank. I began sobbing again immediately, kicking my legs instinctively and grabbing onto the comforter on my parents bed for support. He must have spanked me 50 times before he stopped. Each time felt harder, although I’ll never know if he actually picked up his force with each spank or if my stinging bottom just made them feel worse by the second. When he was done, he pulled me up and nodded for me to fix my pants.

Through falling tears and soaked eyelashes, I looked down and managed to get my boxers and pants situated again, gasping as I pulled my jeans up over my burning bottom.

My father nodded at a chair on the other side of the room.

“Turn that so you’re facing the wall, sit down, and calm yourself down. I want you to have an apology composed for your mother and Zac.”

I wanted him to hug me so badly and just tell me he forgave me and he wasn’t mad anymore. I wanted to reach out and cling to him, let him rub my back as my tears dried on my sticky face. But I knew better than to disobey. I turned, nodded solemnly at my mother, and did as I was told.

I winced as I sat down on the hard chair. As I sat there staring at the wall, I let myself drift once again back to Isaac’s birthday party just months before. I remember one of his friends had made fun of Zac because Zac was wearing a Power Ranger shirt. Isaac defended him immediately, saying that Zac liked to draw and invent new action heroes. The conversation launched into Zac showing them a few of his sketch books. I tried to imagine how I would react if that had happened at my party. I probably would have laughed with them at Zac, and had he even thought about getting his sketch books, I would have whined immediately to my mother. My parents have never wanted us to compare ourselves to our brothers in terms of anything really…school, music, appearance, talents, sports, etc. But this was one place where I had to compare myself. I realized, as I sat there, that I simply didn’t respect my family as much as Isaac did. The thought killed me. I always considered myself such a family guy, and here I was putting my pride and friends before my own flesh and blood.

And the way I had talked to my mother! I almost balked as I remembered exactly what I had said. I felt terrible. She had thrown me this big birthday party, had arranged to get my siblings out of the way for the most part, and had only washed my mouth out when we both knew I deserved a spanking. And after all of it, I stood there and swore at her. I not only swore at her, but I said the worst swear there is to say. I was stunned by my own behavior, and mortified.

I knew my parents were whispering about me as they sat on the bed together, but I didn’t even try to listen. I was too lost in my own thoughts. After about 15 minutes, I think, my father cleared his throat.

“Come over here, Taylor.”

I wasn’t scared to face him. I knew the spanking was over and I needed to apologize to my mother. I was actually looking forward to it… I needed her to know how sorry I was for what I had done. I walked over and stood before there, my hands placed submissively behind my back.

“Mom,” I said before my father could even ask me, “I want to apologize…” I was no longer crying but as I spoke to my mom I could hear my voice started trembling again. “I am so sorry… I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I just don’t. I don’t know why I would ever say something like that to you. In my head, it doesn’t make sense that I would. I know how forbidden that is and how wrong and! I hate to think that I am responsible for such filthy words to my mother… I really do.”

She nodded slowly.

“I am just so sorry… you threw me a birthday party and got me really thoughtful gifts last week and you were so tolerant with me all day…” my voice cracked as I remembered when she had tried to encourage me to nap earlier instead of reprimanding me. She had excused my attitude all day for what? No appreciation by me. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make you proud… and show you how appreciative I am. I am so appreciative for you Mom… for everything. And I’m sorry I was so fresh… I can’t…I can’t promise I’ll never talk back again. Because that’s hard. But I can promise I’ll never say that to you again… I promise.”

She nodded and I noticed then that her eyes looked teary.

“What’s the matter…” I said quietly, afraid of what I had done wrong.

“It’s just… you know right from wrong so well. You know what’s right and what’s appropriate…and you have such a good heart Taylor. Your father and I are just very afraid about the changes going on your lives and we just…we don’t want the changes to change who you three are.”

“Mom… my life might be different but it’s still me… and I’ll always be me. I’ll shape up… I promise…”

She let out a cry and reached out for me, pulling me close to her and hugging me close, petting my head like she did with Zac’s earlier. I sighed and felt safe and protected. When she let me go, I looked at my father.

“I’m sorry you had to punish me, Dad… I’m really sorry for all the trouble I caused today…”

He nodded too, reaching out and giving me a hug, patting my back gently.

“You need to go out and tell Zac you’re sorry,” he said as he pulled away.

My stomach dropped as I let myself remember all my friends waiting outside.

I nodded and gulped, looking from parent to parent for the encouragement I needed.

“I’ll walk out with you,” my mother said, reaching out and squeezing my hand. She knew how hard it was going to be for me to face my friends. “C’mon. And I understand you just want it to be your friends. I talked to your father and he said he thinks it’s understandable you don’t want Zac hanging around… although you should have handled it differently.”

I nodded, glancing appreciatively at my dad who had resumed reading his book. I followed my mother out of the room and towards the living room again- the walk of shame.

I came out to the same scene I left- the same interested eyes and shocked expressions. I tried not to make eye contact with David and Jake. I stood there before all of them, completely exposed. They knew everything that had happened by the stiffness of my walk and the ruddiness of my cheeks. Not to mention what my mother had said earlier and the sobbing and spanking they undoubtedly could hear from one room away.

“Zac,” I said, studying the tan carpet nervously. I looked up at his hopeful eyes. “Dude… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have been so mean to you today. I don’t mind you being around at all usually… I guess… I guess I was trying to seem all cool and everything in front of all my friends…”

It was humiliating to admit that in front of Jake and David. I must have looked pathetic.

“Cause you know I usually like hanging around you… even if you are my little brother… and I’m sorry sometimes I don’t show you that… especially lately.”

Zac nodded, clearly accepting my apology.

“And Zac…” my mother started.

“I’m going to sleep in our room with Ike,” he sighed, “It’s only fair. It’s Tay’s party.”

“You don’t have to…” I said, although I have to admit as remorseful as I was, I didn’t want him to accept my offer.

“It’s fine, Tay,” he sighed.

My mom nodded, “I am very proud of you both. I think it was mature of you to give him such a good apology Taylor and I think it was also very mature of you, Zac, to understand his need for this sleepover by himself.”

Zac nodded.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed? You and Isaac?” Isaac and Zac got up and said goodnight to my mom, giving her quick hugs. I took their spot on the couch, wincing very quietly when I sat down.

As Isaac followed Zac out my mother called after him, “And Isaac?”

He turned.

“I am very proud of you too. Thanks for helping me out so much.”

I nodded, thankful that he had spent a lot of the evening trying to keep me out of trouble and trying to distract Zac. I was positive he was the one who convinced Zac to sleep in his own bed.

He gave her a goofy smile and ducked his head every so lightly so thank her, “Thanks Mom. Night.”

My mother looked at the three of us boys on the couch and looked around the room, “Well…are you three all set?”

We nodded. I was almost afraid for her to leave. I knew I’d be hounded with questions and had so many things to explain.

“Alright. Then sleep good boys. Don’t stay up too late.”

When she left, the three of us crawled into sleeping bags on the floor silently. I reached out and put a bowl of chips in between us, taking a handful and sighing.

Finally, Jake sighed and looked at me, “That was sort of awkward.”

I knew I owed them an apology too.

“I’m really sorry guys… that you had to sit through…”

“We’re sorry for you!” Jake laughed, and David nodded.

I chuckled and picked at loose threads on my sleeping bag, “I deserved it. Don’t feel bad for me. I should have never spoken to my mother like that.”

They nodded with wide eyes.

“Although my mom would have grounded me, maybe even washed my mouth out like your mom did,” Jake explained, “My parents don’t still spank me.”

“Mine either.”

I sighed and studied my hands, “Yeeeaaah… my parents still do. There’s nothing I can do about it,” I shrugged. “That’s just how they discipline us. All of us.”

“Did your father actually…”

I nodded, “Took me over his knee, bared my ass, and spanked me really hard. With a brush.”

They winced.

“Could you hear?” They paused, looked at each other, and then nodded.

I sighed, “We’ve learned over the years, my siblings and I, that those walls aren’t very sound proof.”

“Your brothers mostly explained your family’s discipline… how your parents see it and justify it and… what they believe,” David explained, “So don’t worry. I think we sort of get it now.”

I felt a little relieved hearing that, reminding myself to thank Isaac and Zac later.

“It’s still all really embarrassing…” I sighed, “Really, really embarrassing.”

They chuckled and nodded, agreeing with me.

“I’d be really embarrassed too, Tay.”

I blushed at the thought that they had sat there and watched me grovel and sob before my mother. I had almost eliminated that memory from my mind.

“Can we keep this on the…”

“DL?” Jake asked.

I nodded.

“Your secret is safe with us. We won’t tell.”

I sighed thankfully, “Thanks…”

David smirked, "My parents always joke about giving me my birthday spanking... but damn. Your parents really take it literally."

I sighed again and laughed at the casual approach my friends were taking to it all. "Seriously..."

“What I really want to talk about though…” Jake continued, a smiling curling on his lips, “Is Miss. Ashley Miner. She seems to have the hotts for you…”

I laughed and dropped my head into my pillow. I was thankful I had friends like these, brothers like those, and parents who cared enough to pay attention to my attitude. It kept me grounded- my parents strict discipline. I smiled at the thought. Perhaps my mother had ground me after all.