Get the belt

Don't make me get the belt.

It's the phrase we have all heard, and when we become parents we all know at some point we will have to use.

It took us about five years to get to that point. And I have to say, it went about as well as trying to go bowling with a cinder block.

My wife and I have never been big on corporal punishment. (I'm not going to debate the pros and cons of it because, quite frankly, I don't feel like it. I think whatever side you fall on, you make great points. Nice view up here on the fence.) Sure, there has been the occasional swat on the little hand that is reaching for the sleeping dog's mouth, or the swat on the rear that gently moves someone who is standing RIGHT in front of the Bama game. But nothing that I think you would even put in the category of the mildest corporal punishment.

But how do you discipline, you ask? Simple. Isolation and deprivation.

Ha! Kidding. We don't do that. Any more. What we opt for varies with the children. With Parker, time-out seems to work. Although, in fairness, he's a bit solitary by nature, so sending him to his room is actually what he prefers. So if we catch Parker using a marker to redecorate the couch, we send him to his room, and he has a blissful good couple of hours. Maybe we should rethink that. "Parker, DO NOT eat the dog food. That does it young man - we're taking you to a social function!"

With Allie, we started off with distraction. If she was, say, brandishing scissors, we would gently trade out the scissors for something less pointy. But as she got older, we found that the best way of punishment was empty threats. "Allie, clean up your room or I'm throwing out every toy that's on the floor." "Allie, sit down and eat your dinner, or you will NOT get to watch a movie." "Allie, sit still in church, or we WILL put you in the circus." Standard stuff, and it seemed to work well

So a few nights ago, Allie was getting ready for bed. And, as usual, she was stalling. We kept telling her to brush her teeth, and she kept stalling. For various reasons, I was just tired of dealing with the particular stalling session, and I, quite frankly, had enough. And there it came: "Don't make me get the belt."

Allie continued stalling, and in one fluid motion, my belt was off and in my hand. She stopped and stared. I stepped toward her. And then, in a moment that will be indelibly inked in our family history, I pulled the belt back and in a flash, I threw it onto the bed where my wife was sitting and said, "You do it. I can't."

The look my wife gave me was if I had thrown her a dead squirrel. "I'm not gonna do it! You're the one who threatened her!"

Immediately, I fired back, "Look, we can't have empty threats any more. We need to follow through. Do it."

So there we were: My wife and I at the realization that we were just not equipped for old-school discipline. Allie was realizing this too, and pretty much thinking she had punched her fun ticket for eternity.

Finally, I called Allie over and had her sit down on the bed with us. "Allie," I said, "I know I told you that I would spank you with the belt if you didn't brush your teeth. But I'm not going to. I can't, and your mother can't."

Allie stared at me, and I can only wonder what she was thinking. Most likely, she was thinking her parents were weak-kneed and easily played. I knew this was a critical discipline moment, and had to salvage some shred of future control (and a smidge of dignity).

"So we won't spank you. But you need to brush your teeth ... or I take away your Barbie Christmas tree in your room."

Her teeth were brushed and she was in bed within 60 seconds.