Without letting go of her, he reached for what he had put on the dresser that morning, before he had gone to Trace's house to pick Sara up. He held it up in front of his new little girl.
"Do you see this, Sara? This is your paddle." It was made of pink leather, three thicknesses stitched around its oval edge.
"Oh, Daddy, no," she pleaded.
"This is for when you are bad, and you are going to get it right now."
He sat, and pulled her over his lap.Cruel eight-sentence rule! You'll just have to buy the book now, by clicking here, won't you? :D