Bryce and Paul Richardson

"I’ve had enough of you two fighting. Since you can’t settle it yourself, I’m going to settle it for you."

Both the boys turned to me in surprise.

"I want both of you to go to Bryce’s room and get your clothes off." They just stared at me for a moment, so I got them moving. "NOW!"

As soon as I snapped, they headed for the bedrooms, then Bryce stopped, almost causing Paul to run into him.

"Take off everything?"

"No, you can leave your undies on. Hurry up. I’ll be in there in a couple of minutes."

I said a couple of minutes, because there were a couple of things I needed, and I knew I’d be lucky to find one of them that quick.

It was where I thought it would be, though, so it was only a few moments later when I walked into Bryce’s room. He and Paul were both stripped down to their undies, talking on the bed. They didn’t notice me walk in, and they were both so cute, I just had to take a minute to quietly watch them. Judging from what I could hear, they were debating the merits of the new Batman animated series versus the ones from the 90s. I had to agree with Bryce that the old one was better; but, then again, that was probably why Bryce thought that in the first place. While the conversation was interesting, I was far more interested in them.

Bryce was sitting cross-legged, but I was pretty sure, from the blue waist band, that he was wearing his Batman undies (maybe why they’d started this particular conversation?). On the other hand, Paul, who was laying on his side and facing away from the door, was wearing a pair of Cars undies. I can’t remember most of the characters from that movie, but they were pretty cute, and his little bottom filled them out nicely.

Both boys were very cute. Both had dark brown haired, though they didn’t resemble each other much beyond that and their size. Bryce had dark brown eyes, but Paul’s were blue. Bryce had a somewhat rounded face while Paul’s was longer. Bryce had those big ears that he hated so much (even though I assured him that they just made him cuter, and they were just like his Uncle Ben’s). Bryce had some Mediterranean in his heritage that gave him a slightly dark tint to his skin, while Paul was pale-skinned and ruddy cheeked, like a Cornishman. And, while Paul had a cute smile, his lips were full enough that you didn’t see a lot of teeth. On the other hand, Bryce had a huge smile that exposed all his pearly whites, and the spot where one was missing just then.

After enjoying the view (and the conversation) for a minute, I stepped into the room and took the paddle from the wall. Bryce saw the motion as I did that and suddenly straightened up.

"What are you going to do with that, Dad?"

"Come here and I’ll show you." Bryce stood, but I stopped him. "Hang on. I told you two that you could only keep your underpants on. Get barefoot like Paul."

"I gotta take off my socks?"

"Yes you do. And since you haven’t, I’ll start with Paul. C’mere, Paul."

Paul walked over to where I stood, obviously a bit nervous about the paddle. I took him by the arm and got him into position, then placed the paddle softly on his head. Bryce quickly slipped his socks off and came over to see what I was doing.

"You see," I explained to them both, "the paddle reaches across his head to the wall. I’ll look here," I said, leaning towards the wall, "to be sure that the edge of the paddle is flat against the wall. Since it is, that means that the paddle’s straight. Since it’s straight, and since the bottom of it is on his head, that means that the if I draw a line on the wall, where the bottom of the paddle touches it, it’ll show how tall he is." Pulling a pencil from my pocket, I matched actions to words.

The reason the boys had been arguing was over who was taller. Or, rather who was shorter. Between the two of them, they were the shortest boys in their class. They were so close to the same size, however that… Well, that’s where you came in. And thus, I’d decided to settle the issue.

After making the mark, I had Bryce take his friend's place.

"Bryce, get off your tip-toes."

He did, but I had to tell him right away, "Bryce, drop your shoulders and stand normally."

Then, a second later, "Bryce, I’m about to show Paul how this paddle is normally used."

That got his attention, and I was finally able to get him measured normally. Paul watched it all closely. When I mentioned using the paddle normally, his eyes went wide. Hanging the paddle makes it easy to find, and I think it helps the boys behave a little better, but it makes for some interesting conversations and expectations.

After making Bryce’s mark, it was obvious that he was slightly taller. I pulled the cloth, tailor’s measuring tape from my pocket and tacked it to the baseboard. Lifting it to the proper height I revealed that Paul was 4’2 ½" and Bryce was ¾ inches taller. Since both boys were about 9 ½ years old, that puts them in the shortest 5 to 10% for their age. Bryce started to gloat, but was stopped by the revelation that we weren’t through yet (and another threat of a smacking). For the next part of our measuring, I lead them into the bathroom.

Stepping each of them on the scale revealed that Bryce was 53 ¾ pounds, while Paul was actually 1 ½ pounds heavier (which accounted for that nice, round bottom he had). Still neither boy was exactly chubby. Both were small, but not totally outside the range for their age group. Bryce and I had actually gone to a specialist to run some tests, and he’s just a slow grower.

Once the measurements were done, I declared it all a draw. "You’re slightly taller than Paul, but he’s slightly heavier than you; so, you’re even. Neither of you is the smallest, because you’re both bigger than each other, in a way." Of course, I could have suggested a good tie-breaker, but I wanted to stop the arguing. Besides, it probably would have been inappropriate.

"Now, let’s have a talk for a couple of minutes."

Bryce started to look nervous, because he knew where one of Daddy’s ‘talks’ could often lead.

"Now, I want you two to understand something. There’s nothing wrong with having a good discussion. It’s fun to talk about things you both like, but you don’t exactly agree on. Just like when I walked in, and the two of you were talking about which Batman cartoon you liked better. That was fun. But, you have to respect that the other guy might not agree with you. That’s okay. Even with best friends, you don’t have to agree on every little detail. But sometimes, you have to realize that you’re not going to change your mind, and your friend won’t change his, and it’s time to ‘agree to disagree’ -- to talk about something else. Other times, you have to do what we just did: quit arguing and find out the truth. Do you understand me?"

Their ‘yes, sirs’ echoed each other.

"Good. Now, let’s understand something else. How many times did I tell you two to stop arguing, Bryce?"

"Ummm…Twice?"

"Twice? Are you sure? Paul?"

"Three times, I think."

"Yeah, that’s what I think, too. How many times should I have to tell you?"

"Once," both boys said almost together.

"Exactly right. Both of you lay down over the side of the bed."

Both boys complied, stretching out. Paul placed himself over the side, with his elbows tucked under his chest. Bryce just collapsed, with his hands to his sides.

"Bryce, look at Paul and you get that way."

After Bryce had adjusted, I scooted to Paul’s side, and leaned over, placing my left hand on Bryce’s far side. Then I reached down and began patting Paul’s cotton-clad (and cartoon-decorated) bottom.

"Paul, were you two discussing who was bigger, or arguing about it?"

"Arguing," he told me. After he’d said it, I lifted my hand from his bottom. When it came up, he shifted to look back over his shoulder. I reached up and turned his head back to the front. When I was sure he wasn’t going to look back, I reached over and began to pat Bryce’s bottom.

"Bryce; is it good to argue with your friends like that?"

"No?"

"Why not?"

"Ummm… Because you could hurt someone’s feelings?"

"That’s a very good reason. So Paul," I asked, switching back to patting his bottom, just a bit more firmly than I‘d been before, "if you know you’re arguing, should you keep arguing, or stop?"

"Stop," he said, much more sure of himself than Bryce had been.

"And Bryce," I said, switching the firm pats back to his little cheeks, "when else should you stop arguing?"

"When your Daddy tells you to," he replied very softly.

"That’s right." I said as my hand came up, then landed with a real swat, causing him to jump and yelp.

Paul tensed up, then relaxed as I began patting his bottom again.

"I shouldn’t have to tell you three times, should I Paul?"

"No, sir."

Paul had his own chance to squirm and yelp as I give him a firm smack.

Bryce turned to look over his shoulder as I began to pat his bottom again. I paused long enough to turn him facing forward, then began to pat again.

"Should I even have to tell you two times, Bryce?"

"No, Daddy." You could tell by his voice that he knew what was coming, and I didn’t disappoint him. My hand cracked down on his right cheek this time. It wasn’t a real hard swat, but it was far from soft, and he moaned quietly, as I paused to rub the sting in a bit, before moving back to rub Paul’s right cheek.

"How many times should I have to tell a boy to do anything, Paul?"

"Once."

My hand came up and down again, but Paul was quieter as I gave his cheek a good squeeze and rub.

"Boys, you both deserve a good spanking; don’t you?"

I had to wait a moment and strain to hear two ‘yes, sirs’.

"You deserve a spanking for being rude to each other and you deserve a spanking for not minding me; don’t you?

Again, two quiet ‘yes, sirs‘.

"I’m glad you agree; but, you’re not going to get it tonight." As I spoke to them, I took the waistband of their undies and pulled them up taut, then slid a finger into the leg bands and straightened them. "What you are going to get is two swats for making me tell you twice, for each reason. That’s four swats."

And matching actions to words, my hand quickly went up and down, smacking left, then left, right, then right, before repeating, right at the leg band this time. And these were good, firm swats with plenty of sting in them.

As soon as I’d placed the last swat, I told them to they could get up, and they hopped to their feet. Even before he was all the way up, Bryce was rubbing his bottom. As soon as he was on his feet, Paul’s hands went down the back of his undies to rub, causing the shorts to ride down and almost making Lightning McQueen expose Paul’s little boyhood.

I watched for a minute, then stood to leave.

"You guys can get dressed when you’re ready," I threw over my shoulder.

"Jack?" Paul asked.

"Yes."

"Is it arguing if you can prove you’re right?"

"No, I guess if you can really prove it, and not just say it’s so because you think so, then it’s not really arguing. Why?"

"Well, me and Bryce might be tied on who’s bigger, but I’m still stronger than he is."

"Are not!"

Paul barely got his briefs back up before the two of them fell on the bed, wrestling. The two of them were obviously playing, so I just stood and watched as Batman popped up for a second, before being tossed by Cars. After a minute, I was ready to leave the cute little wrestling match.

"Guys!" They both paused and looked over at me, surprised that I was still there, I think. "When you get through here, get dressed and we can have some milk and cookies."

I guess milk and homemade cookies beats a wrestling match, and they were tugging on their pants before I got out of the room.



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