It was a Friday evening and I was busting with excitement to get out and play because it had been snowing for a little while. I lived in a city where reliable snow falls did not happen often. I was hoping this would not turn out to be a "teaser" snowfall when the snow would turn to rain or would melt the next day as the temperature warmed up. For a snow loving kid that could be very disappointing. I didn't want to miss any time in the snow that night.  I was seven or eight years old so my older sister would have been thirteen or fourteen. If my Mom had been home, she would have been the preferable parent to ask if we could go out in the snow. Mom probably would have let both of us go outside. But Mom wasn't home so we had to ask Dad.

Dad said that my sister could go out but that I couldn't as it was too close to my bedtime and I had to go get ready for bed. My sister had a later bedtime than me (much to my jealousy and annoyance.) I felt I missed out on a lot of fun stuff because I had to go to bed so early.

I was recovering from a cold and still had a bit of the sniffles.  Dad didn't want me getting "all worked up" outside playing when it was close to bed time, and he didn't want me to get chilled or over heated either. So the only place I was going was upstairs to get ready for bed. My sister happily went downstairs to put on her warm clothes and boots and stuff while I gloomily stomped upstairs to supposedly get into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was actually sitting on my bed pouting. Although it was tempting to whine and cry to try to get my way I knew that wasn't going to get me out in the snow where I wanted to be. Dad had been a little apologetic when he said I couldn't go out, so I thought about my options for trying to get out there after all and as I pouted on my bed I came up with a plan. I thought that being sweet and pleading nicely was my best chance of getting what I wanted so I put my best pleaaasssseeee Daddy look on my face and was certain that would work. I went down to the living room where he was sitting in his chair reading the newspaper. My desire to be out in the snow was so great and my mission so important to me, that I stood a bit shakily in front of the foot stool as I asked him again (begged actually) if I could please, please, please go out side for just a few minutes? The way I pictured it in my head, my Dad was then supposed to say "All right." "You can go out side for a little bit." This would have been the perfect answer.  It was what I was hoping to hear.

What happened next was very unexpected. My Dad wasn't a really strict disciplinarian but he could be firm when he thought the situation required him to be, so I didn't really know how he would respond to my pleading. I have to say I was not at all prepared when he suddenly folded the paper, put it down and was up and out of his chair and had gotten a hold of me faster than I could ever have imagined. (This was at a time when he was still somewhat agile and it didn't take him three or more tries to rock his chair and then propel himself out of it like it does now.) My eyes grew wide with surprise as he gripped my arms firmly, turned me around, and marched me up the stairs to the bathroom and the bedrooms. I was even more surprised when on the way to the stairs he delivered several sharp smacks to my bottom. The smacks didn't really hurt too much. I think he was just making his point that the subject of my going out side was closed and there was to be no more discussion. He rushed me up the stairs into the bathroom. He was not happy with me that I had not already gotten into my pajamas and brushed my teeth as I was supposed to have done. He stood in the bathroom glaring at me while I brushed my teeth as best I could while trying not to cry (those smacks he gave me startled me a lot.) After my teeth were done, he put his big, strong right hand on the back of my neck. (I always hated that because he would squeeze my neck too hard sometimes.) I had no choice but to go with him to my room.

 Once in my room, he yanked my pants down, sat on my bed and flipped me over is knee without saying word. It all happened too fast for me to argue or resist.  He gave me several smacks and said nothing during the whole spanking. When he stopped, he abruptly stood me in front of him and gruffly told me to get into my pajamas. His tone left no room for argument. As he left the room he said "When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it." Then his voice softened a bit as he said "Get into bed. We will talk about this in the morning." He closed my door firmly as he left my room.

I did as I was told this time and was lying in bed crying and thinking about how horrible it was to be a kid and have to do what parents said. I was also trying to figure out where my plan had gone so wrong and why I was now in bed even earlier than my normal bedtime. Even though it was only a few minutes before my regular bedtime it was still an injustice to be in bed early, and on a snowy Friday night to boot.

 A little while later, I was still awake when he came into my room to check on me as my parents always did after bed time. He walked over to my bed, and gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead. He didn't say anything and neither did I. I was busy holding my breath and holding back the sniffles. I was angry at those stupid sniffles. I couldn't figure out which was worse, him thinking the sniffles were from my cold which might prevent me from being allowed to go out side in the snow the next day, (if the snow was still there) or from crying and being a baby. I really needed some comfort and I knew that the way he left my room would tell me how angry he was which would be an indication how naughty he thought I had been.

If he closed my bedroom door completely again, that meant I had been really naughty. Too naughty to be allowed to have my door left open to comfort me while I was alone upstairs. (Meaning he was really angry.)

If he left the door half way open that meant I had been a bit naughty but it was okay to have the comfort of my door open. (Meaning he was just a little bit angry.)

If he left the door opened wide, that meant I hadn't been too naughty at all. (Meaning he wasn't angry anymore and I was already forgiven.)

I held my breath and stopped sniffling as my Dad turned out my light and then left my room keeping the door wide open. Whew! So he didn't think I had been really naughty.

Before going back downstairs he said "the snow will still be there in the morning and you can go out and play for awhile tomorrow."

I listened as he descended the stairs and I knew exactly which step he was on by the sound the stair made under his weight. When I knew he was all he way down stairs, I let my breath out, and with it a renewed gush of slightly relieved but still somewhat sad tears.

I worried a bit about what Dad was going to say to Mom when she got home and if she would talk to me about it, but mostly I just hoped really hard that there would still be snow in the morning.

I knew I was supposed to stay in bed but the lure of the falling snow was too much for me. If I couldn't be out side in it, I would watch it from inside! Listening intently for any sounds of Dad moving around downstairs, I quietly got out of bed and opened my curtains to look out at the winter night made bright by the falling snow. Emotions surged through my body as I was so happy to see the snow, and so sad that I was not out there in it, and angry when I saw my sister who obviously wasn't in the back yard any more, but was now out front playing in the snowy street without me.  I was missing so much. Two people walked past my house then and my frustration reached a new high.  I hated to see car tracks or people's foot prints ruin the fresh snow fall.

A car slowly driving down the street and into our driveway snapped me out of my snit as I realized that was Mom's car. I leapt away from the window and back into bed with my heart thumping so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I wondered again if my Dad would tell my Mom what happened.  I heard the downstairs door open and then close as Mom entered the house. I couldn't hear what was said but I did hear both my parents' voices so I knew they were talking about something. I nervously lay in bed and closed my eyes to try to sleep. It was no use though. Despite my Dad's best intentions I was "all worked up." I knew Mom would check in on me soon and I worried about what she would say. She did come to my room shortly, and saw that I was awake. I had expected her to be angry with me but she just soothed me, told me Barb would be back inside soon, and ruffled my hair. Under her tender touch I began yawning and sort of wanting to sleep but was kind of fighting sleep too. She kissed me good night and her comforting of me released a few more tears but happier, relieved tears this time and I quietly cried myself to sleep wondering if I would ever be able to figure my parents out.

The next morning when I remembered that it had been snowing the night before, I jumped out of bed with much more enthusiasm than usual for an early morning and eagerly looked outside to see if the snow was still there. It was! I found out later that it had snowed pretty much all night and was actually still snowing lightly as I looked out the window. I was once again busting to get outside and play in that snow.