Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
This is the story about the origin of Spanksgiving. The kitchen was thick with steam that smelled overwhelmingly of simmering basil and crushed tomatoes. Thanksgiving wasn’t complete without Mommy Anna’s infamous Neapolitan sugo, and Ronnie was slumped over the heavy cast iron pot.
“Don’t stop stirring, Ronnie,” Mommy Anna had warned. “We have company coming and this sugo cannot stick. Keep that heat low and that spoon moving!” I slipped into the kitchen hoping for a leftover cookie, but stopped in my tracks when I saw my brother. “Ronnie, you won’t believe it,” I whispered, leaning close to the stove.
Spanksgiving
“It’s a tiny little critter,” I insisted, pointing toward the overgrown patch near the shed. “He looks hungry. He’s too cute. Come on, we can grab some peanuts and he can have a Thanksgiving too!” The promise of a secret mission and a backyard pet sighting was far more appealing to Ronnie than the repetitive swirl of wooden spoon against tomato pulp.
He immediately followed me out the back door. We crouched by the shed, feeding the critter the last of the salted peanuts Mommy Anna had in the cupboard. We were totally absorbed in our small, charitable act, when the first high-pitched squeal reached us.
It wasn’t a critter. It was the smoke alarm. Ronnie and I froze. The sound was immediately followed by the terrifying thump-thump-thump of Mommy Anna descending the stairs. The sugo was now a scorched, tarry mess at the bottom of the pot! Mommy Anna stood near the stove, furious. “Ronnie! The sauce! I told you to stir! We have Uncle Buck coming, and you…you completely ruined dinner!”
“It wasn’t my fault, Mommy,” Ronnie started. “Amber distracted me. I found the little—” “Silence!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “Both of you. Up to the living room. Now.” We walked ahead of her, numb with dread. The suspense wasn’t about the fight; it was about the ritual that always followed. We found Uncle Buck already standing by the fireplace, nursing a drink. He didn’t look angry; he looked expectant.
He was a tall man with a silent, heavy presence. Uncle Buck always stayed to watch while Mommy Anna punished us. The shame was instantaneous and paralyzing. Mommy Anna didn’t need to say a word, as we already knew her preferred method of punishment was to spank us. She positioned Ronnie and I side-by-side, near the worn leather armchair. The smell of burnt sugo was suddenly replaced by the fear rising in my throat.
“You have both failed to behave,” Mommy Anna stated. Her voice sounded unnervingly calm now. She looked directly at Uncle Buck, while a small, hard line formed around her mouth. “This is unacceptable.”
The first strike against Ronnie’s rear was loud and echoed in the too-quiet room. Ronnie gasped, but didn’t cry. Mommy Anna was so so SO mad at him and made it known as she spanked his ass purple! I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing my turn was next. Uncle Buck made an approving sigh before the air whistled again and the painful sting reached my bare ass. I screamed in protest as Mommy Anna spanked me harder and harder.
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