This was going to be a long, hot summer.
The transition back home was a lot smoother than you might have thought....hell, they were a lot smoother than I wanted them to be. The night after the three of us got back from Atlantic City, father sat me down to talk about the arrangement with Gavin.
"Son," he said, sitting me down. "I know you think you are too old to be spanked any more. Part of me agrees with you. However, just when I think I can trust you, you go and do something stupid again, and I'm reminded just how immature you can be."
"I swear I can be good, Daddy," I said, catching myself (note to self....if you want to prove that you are too old to be spanked, you need to stop calling your father "Daddy."
"We'll see," Dad said. "I know you think it's fair that I have Gavin spank you, but I think you would actually prefer that to me spanking you, right?"
I thought about that for a moment – on the trip back that was actually the conclusion that I had come to. If I am to be spanked, it might as well be a 10-year-old child and not my goonish father.
"Yeah," I said, letting him know that I reluctantly agreed.
"Good," he said, adding, "You know, I was very proud of the way you taught him how to properly spank you. It showed a lot of maturity that you were willing to put his needing to learn an important skill over your personal feelings."
"Ahhhh, yeah," I said, not really sure what I was suppose to say to that comment; what was this about "an important skill?" The was a 10 years old, for crying out loud, and Dad is making it sound like I taught him wood carving or something.
"I expect you to continue teaching him," Dad continued, to my horror. I had hated that I had to explain what to do to Gavin. I just wanted this to be over, without all the god_d_a_m_n_ discussion, or "teaching" about it.
"Ahhhhhh, sure," I said, sounding confused. "But I think I told him everything I knew."
"Did you really?" Dad asked, in a very sweet, sarcastic tone. "I was the one who had to tell him about the talking to you part."
"Oh yeah," I said softly.
"There's more to punishing a naughty, little boy than pulling down his pants and spanking him," Dad reminded. "When he spanks you, I expect you to be truly sorry afterwards. He is going to spank you for a reason. Do you understand?"
"Yeah."
"So, I imagine that the next few times that he has to spank you," he continued. "That you will still have to teach him a thing or two."
I hated this.
I really hated this.
This was so unfair on so many different levels. I didn't need to tell Gavin, anything else. He learned it all the first time; he knew what to do with my bare butt when he got his hands on it. I really didn't know what else I was expected to tell him. In fact, I would say he had caught on a little too well!
"Ok," I said, adding, "Any suggestions?"
That threw off dad a little. I almost never asked questions like that – actual, fatherly advice kind of questions.
"Well, son, I want you to think about some of the times I have spanked you," he said. "I want you to tell Gavin about them. All of them. Especially the ones that were the most embarrassing."
Oh jeez....that could take a while!
"There was the time, when you were eight, when I warmed you up good while you were in the tub," he said, looking rather pleased with himself. That was a particularly nasty one too – six years later, and my butt still hurt thinking about it.
"Ok," I said, with a shrug. "I suppose."
"There was also the time we went to the zoo, and you got away from me, remember that?" Dad asked, looking like the proud Papa he was.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, nodding my head. "I understand now."
The agreement was going to work something like this: I was still suppose to babysat Gavin for the rest of the summer. We were still going to be hanging out for about 16 hours a day. I was still in charge of him, making sure he was looked after.
HOWEVER, if I did something Dad didn't like, something I needed to be punished for, he would leave word for Gavin, and Gavin would take me in hand, and later report back to my father.
ALSO, Gavin had permission to spank me on the spot for anything he thought I should be disciplined for. Dad said that if there was any question about Gavin's decision, that we were to call him at work and he would make the judgment right then and there. Gavin was to report to Father if I was uncooperative, and Father reserved the right to take back his agreement about not spanking me any more if I disobeyed Gav.
Now, exactly how I was suppose to maintain any sort of authority over Gavin was beyond me. I mean, if Gavin has the right to punish me, and I have the authority over what he is suppose to be doing, who's to say that Gavin won't SPANK me to get back at him for not letting him watch that god awful Pokemon, or some other banal reason.
Gavin swore that he would not abuse his authority:
"I will use my powers only for good, Mr. Grey," he said, assuring Dad, and because Gavin had impressed Dad with the way he both spanked me, and took his spanking,
Dad believed him at his word.
The day after the talk Dad I had, Gavin and I were hanging out playing Monopoly. It was about 2 in the afternoon, it was raining and we had run out of about everything else to do inside the house.
"I am so bored," Gavin said. "I wish you had some new Playstation games."
"Well, I have a birthday coming up in a few months," I said, rolling the dice. "You can always buy me Final Fantasy VIII!"
"HA!" he laughed. "Fat chance! I'm getting that for me and my birthday."
We played a little longer until we both got tired of it and gave up. The rain had turned to drizzle.
"Can we go down to the woods?" Gav asked.
"Still raining, and we'll get muddy," I said.
"So," he said with a shrug. "We're kids, it's summer and it's raining! We should be getting muddy, Matt!"
Good point – I thought.
"What if Lee calls?" I said, about my friend who had been away at summer camp. "He was coming back from Camp Coyote today, and said he might call."
Gavin's smile disappeared. He didn't like that I had other friends, especially ones my own age. "That's why you and your Dad have voice mail, Matt," he said with a glare.
I knew I had hurt his feelings, so forgot about Lee for a moment, and said, "If we get all muddy, we'll have to get cleaned up before your folks get home."
"They won't care," Gav said. "Besides, we can always shower off afterwards, and throw our clothes in the washer," he continued, adding an impossible to resist, "PLEEEEASE!" He had cupped his hands in a prayer.
"Well," I said, thinking about it. It did sound fun. There was no rule saying we couldn't go down to the woods, especially if we were together, and there was not any rule about us getting muddy, especially if we cleaned ourselves afterwards. "OK, but we absolutely CAN NOT get any mud in the house!"
"Yipeee!" he said, putting his shoes on.
We were outside for about a half-hour, romping around in the mud holes that had been formed near the creek in the woods. It was so much fun. I didn't realize it then, but this was probably going to be my last summer of being able to play around like a little kid.
By the time we got back to the house, we were still laughing. The sun was out and we were encrusted in mud from head to toe. We took our shoes and socks off out on the back porch, and hosed the shoes off as best we can.
"I call the shower first!" Gavin said, taking his shirt off outside, just as I heard the phone ring.
"Fine," I said, rushing past him to get inside to get the phone – I was sure it was Lee calling.
When I got in I got the phone on the fourth ring. It wasn't Lee, but actually a friend of Gavin's named Vincent. "He can't come to the phone now," I said to Vince, as I was looking at the path of mud I had trekked into the house. "He's taking a shower. I'll tell him you called."
"Who was that?" Gavin said, walking in wearing only his white underpants.
"Where are your clothes?" I asked.
"On the back porch," he said pointing behind him. "I figured I would come in and get a trash bag so I could bring them on in to be washed."
"You stripped everything off out back?" I asked.
"Not everything," he said, snapping his waistband. "Besides, unlike SOMEONE I didn't want to track in a pile of mud on the kitchen and dining room floors."
"Ahh," I said, waving it off. "I'll clean that up."
"You got mud all over the dining room carpeting!" he said, pointing out the globs of mud on Dad's white carpeting.
"You can help me," I added. "We'll get it up before he gets home. He won't even know."
"Who was that on the phone," Gavin said, crossing his arms. _d_a_m_n_, he was a cutey!
"Vince," I said, taking my own shirt off, as I looked for that garbage bag. "I told him you would call him back."
"Why did you do that?" Gav said, annoyed.
"Lee might call," I said. "I didn't want to tie the phone up."
"WHY? LEE can call you back about COYOTE camp later!" Gavin was pissed.
"You said you were going to take a shower," I said, looking down into his eyes. "You can call Vincent when you get out."
He turned and walked away from me. "Maybe I'll call Vince back AFTER I've called your Daddy!" he said, walking up the stairs.
Ahhhhh...._s_h_i_t_!