When I finished loading the dishwasher, I came into the living room to watch the game and relax. As I changed the channel to the game I wanted to see, Zach groaned in defiance. I slapped with my right hand while drinking my six-pack with the left. I got the metal serving spoon from the kitchen and chased him around the house, hitting him as hard as I could. When I got tired of that, I took him up the wooden stairs to the third floor and threw him back down.
Kids are so resilliant.
Anyway, I think Zach learned after that, and he must have been pretty tired out because he fell asleep right there. After a few hours, he woke up and crawled up to his room. I didn't let Zach go to school for a week after that. He needed time to let the lesson sink in and let the bruises heal, so I told his teacher he had chicken pox. When the wife came home on Monday, she was a little upset, but it was nothing that a ride on the old manpole couldn't fix.