A Chirstmas Switch

Here's my story for the challenge. I got it typed in last night!

 

I glanced toward my husband with raised eyebrows.

“That’s so mean! You know our kids are good.”

“Yes but I want to teach them something through this. Will you help me?” His green eyes watched me as I put on my makeup one Sunday morning a week before Christmas.

We had been discussing what to give our children for Christmas when my husband, already dressed and ready even though it was only 8 o’clock, had startled with a strange suggestion.

“Of course I’ll help you, Mike, and I’m sure it will come out just great. Your suggestions always do!” I unscrewed my mascara bottle and turning to the mirror began applying it to my eyelashes.

“No-no they don’t. Remember what happened last week when I suggested we take a “short cut” to our performance at The José’s?”

I jerked, daubing the mascara brush in my eye.

“Oh!Oh!” I squeezed my eyes shut to try and lesson the pain as it began to water furiously.

“Here,” he put a tissue in my hand to wipe off the tears. “this might help get the bat pooh out. I thought you would remember that considering the color your face was when we walked on stage half and hour late.”

“It’s not bat pooh! And that turned out just fine. The manager didn’t fire us or anything.” I picked up my foundation and then heard Dillon announce he was awake by wailing loudly from his bedroom. That was the end of that conversation as well as my makeup because Dillon woke everyone the seven other children up.

Mike and I carried through with our plan and by Christmas morning I was more excited than my husband.

“Do you think they’ll understand? Boy their faces will be funny!”

My husband smiled at me as we heard Dillon announce that he was awake.

“I guess well see soon.”

In a moment our house erupted as fourteen bare feet began rushing through the hall and down the stairs to our living room.  I scooped up Dillon and hurried after, eager to see their faces.

“Here’s your Mommy!” my heart beat a little reproachfully when I thought of their gifts and saw that they had waited to open them until they had given me mine.

My present was a small black box and inside lay a silver locket. Opening the small heart I saw four smiling faces looking at me from both sides.

“We were going to do us all in one picture and put Daddy on the other side, but our faces were so tiny you couldn’t really see us.” my second eldest son, William, apologized.

“It’s beautiful! Thank you so much!” my conscience was really pricking me now so I hurried to get the worst over. “Your turn now. Open your presents!”

Mike came up behind me and together our gaze followed each child as the located their packages and eagerly began tearing them open.

Cassy, my emotional thirteen year old, was the first to get hers open. She starred at it in pitiful horror and then burst into tears. Silence began to dominate as each child got their present open and starred at it in dumfounded silence. Finally Josh, my boisterous ten year old found his words.

“You gave me a stick!?”

“It’s a switch Josh.” our eldest son, Randy, corrected.

“Oh.”

“Your not gonna spank me are you Mama?” tears started in four year old, Annaleece’s eyes. “I’ll be good always after this I promise!”

The other children turned their expectant and startled eyes on me.

“No I am not. Because someone else has offered to be spanked instead.”

Mike, putting Darcy down on the floor where he toddled to one of his sisters, stood up and walked toward our bedroom door where spankings were usually delivered.

Josh jumped up. “Daddy? You can’t spank Daddy! He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“Your right Josh, he hasn’t but you have and someone has to take your spankings.”

Josh starred at the floor hard and I would tell he was trying to decided which one would be more painful—Him being spanked or his Daddy being spanked for him. Cassy burst into tears again and chaos began to rain.

“I don’t want Daddy to be spanked!” Wailed Annaleece.

Randy looked back and forth between Mike and I and then unfolding his long limbs he walked over to me and took Dillon.

“I know where your going with this I think.” He said under his breath and his eyes, so green like his father’s, twinkled at me.

“All right, all right! Calm down. I won’t let your mother spank me--” here he through an ornery grin at me. As if I wanted to spank him! “if you will all calm down, sit down and listen up.”

Immediately there was perfect silence.

“Do any of you understand why your mother and I did this?”

Cassy, wiping the last of her tears away, gulped out, “To tell us all what bad kids we are?”

My heart thumped painfully. That was the point I was afraid they would get.

“No Cas that’s not it. I think I know why Dad.” Randy looked up from checking Dillon’s diaper.

“Okay Randy. Fire at will—and I don’t been your younger brother.”

“You’re doing this to show us how we deserve God’s punishment because we are bad. But he sent someone else, Jesus, to take that punishment for us like you were going to take our spankings, though I don’t think Mom could have ever really spanked you.”

“Yes Randy you are completely right. About all of it—I was hoping someone would interfere before your mother actually did spank me. She has a strong arm, as I think you all know from hearing how we met.”

Titters and eyes caused my checks to turn red and I was grateful when my husband continued.

“But anyway, enough embarrassing of your mother. You were right about what we were trying to show you. Now let’s talk a little more in-depth about this.”

Half an hour later I saw the light was dawning in several of the children’s minds and Mike and I decided we could give them a pleasant surprise.

Walking over to the coat closet I swung open the door and jumped back. A shower of sharp corners and sticky bows poured down upon me as the real presents came tumbling out. It was an unusual Christmas but it was one that made memories. The next year, not to our surprise, Mike and I both got switches and the grandparents would have to had we not preempted the kids and told them they couldn’t.