She told me I was going to get a spanking and then walked around the right side of her desk.  I got up from my desk and I ran to the left.  She switched directions and started back towards me.  Again I ran to the other side.  Back and forth we went until I saw my exit and darted up the stairs that were behind her desk.  I raced up one floor and then another and banged at the door of my dad's office.  Her footsteps were close behind but dad's door opened just in time!   Rescued! (Or so I thought.)

It was a private Christian school and it was the young teachers first time in a classroom.  It was also one of my first times in a classroom.  I was five years old.  I don't remember what I did wrong but I do remember that Dad spanked me and sent me back downstairs where my teacher spanked me.   

Through the years this teacher and I became great friends and this story was told and retold to the amusement of many listening ears.  I was always quite proud of myself that I made it past the teacher! 

When I was fourteen years old I had an odd relationship with my brothers.  Matt was eight, Mark was five and I loved them fiercely, still do.  Anyway, most of the time they played together and I bossed them around.  I was the mature one.  One day, however, my maturity slipped and I started jumping on the bed with them.  All three of us started laughing hysterically.  You know how it is when kids start laughing?  There is a special bond with siblings when they make each other laugh and that bond is very hard to break.  

Well, my dad was on an important call and he came in to ask us to be quiet.  But oh, that bond, it would not be broken.  I think we received a few more warnings until finally he said we were all going to get spanked when he was finished with his call.  I couldn't remember the last time I had got a spanking and I was scared.  I stopped laughing hysterically immediately and went into overdrive worrying about how bad this spanking was going to hurt.  I was so worked up that when Dad walked in the room I burst into tears.  I felt five years old again.  

The first swat came and along with it my fear turned to confusion.  The second swat came and confusion turned to hysterical laughing.  It didn't hurt!  I barely felt it!  I couldn't stop laughing.  Dad stood looking at me with a bewildered look on his face and then left the room.  I sat and laughed and felt free and very powerful!  

Dad and I have remembered that day together and laughed at ourselves many times.  It was the last spanking I ever got.