Author's Note:
All rights reserved. This story's setting is June of 1989 in the U.S.A.

"No, Aunt Miriam," Bobby Behr half-whispered, "Not that kind of bedtime story."

The dishwater blonde smiled softly. "I'm afraid so, honey, go get Paddlington Bare for me."

Sniffling, the five-year-old retrieved his little-boy doll from the bedroom's shelf.

"Paddlington's sorry, Auntie," he whimpered as his babysitter accepted the fifteen-inch-high figure.

She patted the bedcover beside where she was seated

"He shouldn't have been so naughty earlier, isn't that true?"

Sitting next to his aunt, Bobby sighed mournfully. "He didn't mean to be naughty."

Miriam held Paddlington out in front of her, noting how much the doll resembled her nephew: golden blond, neatly-trimmed hair, slightly pudgy body, fair-complected face and chubby cheeks–both up front and down back; they were both nigh-identically attired in powder blue 'Doctor Denton' pajama outfits with footies and seat flaps.

"But Master Bare misbehaved badly, didn't he?" she demanded. "Leaving the yard and walking three blocks to the park, without permission, that was quite disobedient." She glanced sideways at the boy, whose visage reflected childish distress. "What has to happen now, to teach Paddlington never to disobey me again?"

Bobby nervously chewed his lip. "Scolded and put straight to bed," he ventured.

His aunt nodded. "That's fine, but you've left out the most important part. Let me give you a reminder of what's going to happen to Paddlington." She unsnapped the figure's 'trap door' seat and lowered it. "Look, Master Bare's name now describes his bouncy behind, doesn't it?" Her hand patted the doll's derriere. "What happens to bad little bare-bottomed boys, Bobby?"

He gulped. "They get…spanked."

"With what?" Miriam prompted.

"Auntie's hairbrush," he murmurred.

"How do they get paddled on their naked hineys, sweetie?"

His eyes closed. "Very hard."

Her tongue clicked. "Bring me the hairbrush from my purse, please, this bedtime story has to be finished with a sound spanking on Paddlington's bare behind."

Bobby sighed. "Do I–"

"Scoot, honeybuns!" Her palm smacked his flannel-covered posterior.

Momentarily, with a teardrop trickling down his face,  he proferred the smooth-backed oaken hairbrush. "Here, Auntie."

Raising the wooden implement in her right hand, she placed Paddlington face-down onto her lap. "Time for a paddling on the bare," she announced.

After thirty sharp wood-to-plastic impacts, Miriam ceased spanking and addressed her nephew. "Get me a cup of water, please."

As he headed toward the bathroom, she produced a lipstick case from her pocket. Twenty seconds later, she was dabbing water from the paper cup onto the eyes and facial cheeks of the doll, which stood upright on the bedstand.

"Poor Paddlington, he's crying," Bobby whimpered.

"Look at his fanny," the babysitter directed, turning Paddlington around to display a ruby red rump. "He got paddled really good, didn't he?"

The five-year-old gulped. "Yes, Auntie."

"So should Paddlington be the only one sporting a tearstained face and sore seat," Miriam demanded, "Or should someone else share his punishment for misbehavior?"

Sniffling, Bobby reached back to unbutton his seat flap. "Someone should…"

{The End}