I crossed my arms and glared fiercely at the wall in front of me, which didn’t seem to have any effect on either the wall or Cameron. Pulling my foot back slightly I kicked gently at the skirting board in front of me. Still no reaction. This time I kicked a bit harder and there was a distinct clunk as my shoe came in contact with the wood.
“Stand up straight, Joshua, and put your arms by your side.” Cam didn’t sound too annoyed, not that that’s a very good indicator anyway. “I suggest you spend the time thinking about what got you into that corner instead of trying to pick a fight with the skirting board.”
I heaved a deep sigh but did as I was told. I’d been in a funny mood since I got up that morning; I didn’t really know why. You know, one of those days that everyone has now and again, when you’re just in a bad mood and feeling argumentative for no apparent reason.
It had started when Cam had shouted up the stairs and told me I needed to get up so we could go shopping. I hate shopping so I pulled the duvet up over my head. I decided that I’d pretend I hadn’t heard him. A few minutes later I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty. We’ve got a lot to do today and I need some help.” A hand tugged gently on the cover and I tightened my grip. “You know that’s not going to work, babe; there’s more than one way to skin a cat.” This time the hand worked its way up from the bottom of the bed and started to tickle my feet. I let out a scream and pulled my feet up closer to me. Cam laughed and, pulling the cover up and over his head, smiled at me. “Hi, beautiful.” Cam has the most amazing smile and it would have been petty not to respond.
“Come back to bed,” I said with a pout. It was Saturday morning and I personally can think of a lot more interesting things to do than push a trolley round Tesco’s listening to screaming kids who want to be there even less than I do.
“No go, Buddy, although that is quite an interesting offer…and one that I’ll definitely be exploring further later on today,” he said with an evil grin. Pulling the covers completely off both of us and dumping them on the bottom of the bed, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. Kissing the end of my nose, he turned me round and, with a gentle swat, sent me in the direction of the bathroom. “Up and at them.”
I finished in the bathroom and looked at the scowling face in the mirror as I passed by; I didn’t want to go shopping. I made my way back to the bedroom and climbed back into bed, pulling the duvet up and around me.
Ten minutes later I heard Cam shout up to me. “Josh, what are you doing up there?” No reply. A few minutes later I heard the bedroom door open.
“Joshua Taylor Nicholls, get your lazy butt out of that bed this minute.”
“NO.” Why use a load of words when you can get your point across with one?
This time I didn’t stand a bat in hell's chance of keeping hold of the duvet. In the blink of an eye I was on my feet whilst sporting a large red handprint on my bottom.
“You do not say no to me, young man, and you most certainly do not go back to bed when I’ve told you to get up. Get dressed.” He stood there and watched until I’d got my clothes on and then insisted that I put all the articles of clothing I had spurned when making my choice of what to wear, back in the cupboard.
I stamped down the stairs to the kitchen. Pulling out a chair, I sat down with a thump and regretted it almost immediately. Cam had followed me and was now leaning against the door frame with his arms folded and a very serious expression on this face. “Do I sense a slight attitude problem here?” Well, yes actually, but I’m sure you can work on it. No, I didn’t say it out loud; I’m not that stupid.
“Are you going to quit with the amateur dramatics yourself, or do you need a helping hand from me?” He raised one eyebrow. Not the sort of helping hand he had in mind I didn’t.
Putting everything in ‘the puppy dog eyes’ look, I offered a sincere “Sorry.”
“You’d better be, my boy, because if you think for one minute I’m going to allow you to act like that for the rest of the day; you’ve got another think coming.” How come Tops can make a simple sentence sound like a threat? “Get yourself some breakfast; I’m popping to the newsagents to get the paper, I won’t be long and I expect you to be ready when I get back.”
Yes, Master, anything you say, Master, your wish is my command, Master. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back and nearly bit it off when he turned around. “And make sure you get yourself a proper drink. No Pepsi - is that clear?”
“Yes, Cameron”. It didn’t sound as sincere as I would have hoped, but he didn’t pick up on it.
I made some toast and opened a can of Pepsi. Drinking it quickly I hid the can in the bin under some rubbish. Cam has some funny ideas about what you can drink with your breakfast and unfortunately Pepsi isn’t on the list. I was ready when he came back and we got in the car. The journey into town was uneventful apart from Cam insisting I turn the radio down after asking me if I was deaf. The “Yes, that why I turned it up in the first place” got a “Be careful, you are skating on very thin ice, little boy.”
With Cam pushing the trolley we started on the weekly shop, or at least I tried to. For a start everything I tried to purchase; you know the really important items such as beer, chocolate and biscuits got the third degree. He was worse than Anne Robinson; Stella Artois, You are the Weakest Link, Goodbye. You should have heard him when I tried to save us some money. “No, Josh, we don’t need three packets of biscuits just because they’re on special, one will do.” There was just no pleasing him. He finally agreed that I could buy a couple of bags of my favourite snacks; cheesy footballs. Although I felt the “anything to stop you moaning” was uncalled for. I never moan, I just voice my opinion.
I left him by the washing up liquid and went in search of my treat. Would you believe it, there was only one bag left. Just as I reached for it so did someone else. We both ended up holding opposite ends of the packet. I explained that it was obvious that I had got there first and would they please let go of MY bag. Funnily enough they were also under the illusion that they had got there first and that I was actually going to let my end of the packet go. Bloody cheek!
By this stage we had both tightened our hold on the packet and a game of tug of war ensued. There was a loud pop and it started raining cheesy footballs everywhere. My opponent scarped and I was left standing with an empty packet in my hand and a sea of cheesy footballs around my feet. Unfortunately, this was the exact moment that Cam came looking for me. It went downhill from there I can tell you and let’s just say I decided to wait for him in the car.
He didn’t even let me help him put the shopping away, he just parked me in the nearest corner with the instructions to think why I had just earned myself a spanking.
“Come here, Joshua.” Oh God the full name, now I’m for it. I turned my head round and looked at him. “Now, young man.” My heart sank. He had pulled out a chair and was obviously waiting for me to walk over to him. I made my way there as slowly as I could, my eyes downcast.
“Come on, I’m waiting, you know what to do.” Of course I know what to do; I’ve had enough bloody practice. I hate this part. I undo my jeans and push them down to my knees, taking a deep breath I push my boxers down to follow them and drape myself across his lap.
He puts his hand on my bottom and I feel a moment of panic.
“Ok, my boy, apart from the appalling attitude you have been showing all day, what did you do to earn yourself this spanking?” Now this could go one of two ways. I could be sarcastic and come up with some withering reply; I’m going to get walloped anyway so I’ve got nothing to lose. Or my bottom can overrule my mouth and I can come up with the explanation and apology he expects to hear.
“It wasn’t my fault.” I try to keep the whine out of my voice and fail miserably. “I picked them up first and he wouldn’t let go.”
“He was six years old, Josh, and at twenty five I expect you to know better.” Even through I’m expecting it I still jump when his hand lands on my right cheek, it is quickly followed by another smack to the left and I’m soon desperately trying to move my bottom out of the way, not that I can. My hand flies back on its own accord, but it is caught and pushed into the small of my back. I don’t really hear the lecture; I’m too busy pleading for him to stop, but it contains words that include attitude, temper and maturity. My eyes are starting to sting and a single tear runs down my cheek.
He keeps this pace up for another five minutes and by this time the pleads have turned to a high pitched whine; I don’t believe it’s in my best interest to keep quiet - if I make enough of the right sounds I may convince him that I’ve learnt my lesson and he’ll stop.
At last it’s all over and he helps me to my feet; I throw my arms around his neck and mutter a sorry. Not too much of a sorry mind; I am the injured party here after all.
“Come on, beautiful, let’s go and get you a drink.” Cam pushes me gently away and we head for the kitchen, his arm around my waist. “What do you want?” Well there’s only one answer to that.
“Can I have a can of Pepsi, please?”