I Beat My Boys Up This Morning

I have a confession to make…

*deep breath*

I beat my boys up this morning.

But they wanted and needed it.

And so did I.

Here’s what happened:

I was working hard on my next Weenie Book story, when I heard the pitter patter of little feet.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” asked my 5 year old son Andru, as he stuck his head in my man cave.

“Hey, Big Guy! I’m just writing. Go and lay on the bed with mommy, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Andru hopped up on the bed and playfully kicked his feet over the side. “Daddy!” he called.

“Just a minute, Andru. I only have a few more words to write.”

One minute later… “Daddy!”

“I´ll be there in a minute”

Teasingly – he called me again, this time in a sing-songy sort of way, “Daddy, Daddy, Daaaaaaaaaaaaadddyyy!”

I jumped to my feet and ran to the bed where Andru was sprawled out. He looked up at me with fear in his eyes.

“I thought I told you I would be just a few minutes!” I boomed. “Now you are going to pay!” Without any warning, I flew through the air and landed on him Jimmy Snuka style.

His high-pitched squeal could be heard throughout the house.

Not relenting, I flipped him over and began to play the bongos on his buns. More squeals were followed by a series of yelps, when all of a sudden I heard a crash from behind me.

My oldest son Cael (9) had heard what was taking place and came to challenge me and defend his little brother.

An evil smacking sound echoed through the house as he slapped me hard across my bare back, leaving a bright red hand print.

“Arrrrrggggghhhhhh!!!! That was a big mistake!!!” I bellowed, quickly turning around and snatching him up before he knew what was happening. Then I did the only thing that seemed feasible in that moment. I body slammed him on the bed. The impact nearly knocked the wind out him.

“Daddy!” screamed Andru. He gaped at me in disbelief.

“Don´t look at me like that! I´ll give you some more!” I howled, as I snatched him up and smashed him to smithereens… all the while, he kept calling for his mommy.

“Mommy can´t help you now,” I snickered, as I let out the most evil laugh I could muster up.

By this time, Cael had recovered and found the best revenge: he sat on top of my head. With my nose being smashed into the bed, I couldn´t breathe. The victor became the victim, and I started to panic.

In the midst of the mayhem, somehow Andru managed to escape. I struggled to break free, and when I felt like I was about to pass out, Cael let me up for air. Taking full advantage of his “kindness”, I gulped in as much air as possible. Unfortunately, the air I gulped was nothing but Andru’s secret weapon: a potent fart.

I screamed and quickly stood up, struggling to catch my breath (not just because of the fart). Pausing for a moment, I looked at my boys and wondered what had just happened.

They looked back at me with wonder in their eyes.

We paused together until…

“Come on, Daddy!!! Let´s fight some more!!” shouted Andru with a large grin.

“Yeah, Daddy, smash us!!” hollered Cael.

There´s nothing like the feeling I get when I beat my boys up.

When was the last time you wrestled your boys?

If you can´t remember, then it is probably time to go and find them and open up a can of “whoop butt” on ‘em. They’ll love it and I’m sure you will too.

In the comments section below, tell me about the last time you “beat up your boys” and how it all went down.

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