"What is it, Pumpkin?" replied her father with a smile.

        "Daddy... um..." She swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.  Then she quickly blurted,  "Daddy you wouldn't spank me for something you knew I didn't do... would'ja???"

        "Of course not, Princess!"  chuckled her father.  "Daddy would never give you a spanking for something he knew you hadn't done."

        "Are you... sure?" she prompted, anxiously, "Daddy... do you... promise???"

      "Very well then," chuckled her father indulgently, "Daddy hereby promises never to spank his little angel for something she didn't do.  Cross his heart and hope to die!  There.  Does that make you feel better?"

         "Oh yes!" sighed the relieved little girl, handing her father a note from her teacher, "Because I didn't do any of my homework last week!"
  

            "I'm sorry, Tomiko," Hannah's mother replied replied firmly, "Hannah is cleaning her room now, and she is not permitted to set foot outside until it is spotless."

            "Oh," replied Tomiko, crestfallen.  Then, hoping for a silver lining in her little friend's cloud, she inquired, "Did'ja promise to give Hannah something good if she did a really, really nice job?"

        "No," replied Hannah's mother, "But I promised to give her a "good" something if she didn't!
 
 

            But when she walked in the door, she surprised Hannah playing with her toys, her room still a complete mess.

            "Hannah!" scolded her mother, as she snatched Hannah's hairbrush from the dresser.  "You have been in this room for over an hour and you haven't even begun to straighten it up!"  Sitting down on the edge of the love seat where she customarily punished her young daughter, she added, "Come over here, young lady!"

            Reluctantly, Hannah climbed onto the love seat next to her mother, her eyes never straying long from the hairbrush obtrusively gripped in her mother's right hand.

            "Hannah, what did you promise Mommy?"

            "To... clean my... room?" responded Hannah hesitantly.

            "That is correct, dear.  And what did Mommy promise you?"

            Hannah swallowed hard as she looked from her mother's stern countenance to the hairbrush and back again.  "You... promised to... spank me with my hairbrush if I didn't clean my room."

         Then Hannah brightened.  "But I didn't keep my promise to you, so you don't have to keep your promise to me!"
 

        "Just look at these grades Miss Brown gave you!" fumed her father.  "They are a disgrace!  I've never seen a teacher give you such a bad report, Traci!"  His brow knit sternly as he glanced first at his little daughter, then down at the report card, then back again.

        Several moments passed.  "I simply cannot let this stand," he said with at last, fixing his child with a steely gaze.   "These grades are completely unacceptable.   Traci, I never want to see marks like this on a report card of yours ever again.  And I intend to make certain that I don't.  That means I'm afraid I must take severe corrective measures."   

         "I think you're right Daddy," piped Traci, cheerfully.

         Puzzled by his daughter's lack of concern, he unfastened his belt and pulled it free from its loops, he added, "And I think you understand what that means, young lady!  Well?"

        "It means a really, really hard, panties-down spanking with your belt, Daddy," the little girl replied with a smile.

        More puzzled than ever, Traci's father doubled over the supple strip of smooth, well-oiled leather and tapped it portentously against his open palm he added, grimly, "In view of these grades Miss Brown gave you, I think somebody is going to need to pull her jeans and panties down and get herself across my lap for the tanning of her life.  What do you think?!"

        "I think you're right, Daddy!" chirped Traci happily, as she handed her father a slip of paper. "Here's  Miss Brown's address!"
 

      Answer:   Both have panties half off.
 

            Finally, her father glanced at the clock on the wall and declared, "Young lady, I am not going to ask you again.  You have one minute, starting now.  If you haven't eaten every bit of your spinach by then, do you know what Daddy is going to do?"  Sullenly, Brianna shrugged her shoulders.   Her father continued, "Daddy is going to come over to your side of the table, lift you off of that chair and turn you over his knee, that's what.  And then Daddy is going to tuck up your  Sunday dress, pull your little panties down and spank you on your bare little bottom right here in the dining room front of Grandma!"

            Brianna squirmed with unease as her father invoked, all too vividly, what was in store for her if she didn't eat that horrid spinach.  She hated to be spanked by Daddy, especially bare!  And especially with someone else looking!

            So with an anxious glance at her father, who sat watching the clock, Brianna slowly picked up her fork and placed a mouthful of the slimey, cold, green mess into her mouth.

            But as the taste and smell filled her senses, Brianna discovered that however much she hated spankings from Daddy, she hated the taste of spinach even more!   Spitting it back out onto her plate and setting down her fork, she seized her glass and gulped down the last of her milk to wash away the flavor.  Setting her glass down she crossed her arms and with a defiant pout, glowered across the table at her father, making no move to obey, stubbornly waiting for her minute to be over.

            Anxious to diffuse the looming parent/child collision, and distraught at the prospect of witnessing Brianna's punishment, her grandmother hopefully urged her to finish her food, adding, "Grandma would feel just awful if she had to see her precious little Brianna get a spanking!"

            "Well Grandma," replied Brianna stoically, "You'll just haf'ta shut your eyes!"