Dad walked in the door just as I was finishing the last dish. Wordlessly, he pulled a chair to the center of the room and sat down.
He waited patiently as I completed the chore, then gathered everything I knew he would want. I handed him a beer. He cracked it open and took a swig. I gave him a cigar. He lit it and blew a puff into the air. I offered the big wooden spoon. He took it, smacked it against his hand a few times, then gestured at his lap.
I laid across his knees. He massaged my bare cheeks with one hand, alternating between his beer and cigar with the other. I could hear him sigh slightly as the stress of the day melted.
After a minute, I spoke. “Dad, I need a spanking for not finishing the dishes before you got home. Will you please give it to me?”
His teeth clamped on the cigar. “Of course, son.” I heard the ruffling of his sleeve being rolled up. “Let’s see if we can get you crying quickly today, though. We need to finish reddening your little butt in time for you to make dinner.”