Get to know your daughter

Hearing the sound of your daughter's laughter from her room, you decide to attempt getting to know her better. Walking up the stairs, your hand grazes the banister as you approach her door. The scent of smoky incense seeping out from beneath it hints at her rebellious nature.

You rap your knuckles on the door, and she calls out, "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to talk, see how you're doing," you reply, pushing the door open against the slight resistance of overstuffed pillows and discarded clothes piled on the floor.

"Haven't you got something better to do?" she snorts, her body sprawled across the bed, phone in hand as she taps away at the screen.

Ignoring her remark, you venture, "I noticed that you haven't applied for any colleges recently. What's going on?"

She rolls her eyes and scoffs, "None of your business, dumbass. No decent university would want to be seen with me anyway. So just fuck off."

The sting of her words unsettle you, but you attempt to remain calm. "That's not true," you retort, even as the truth potentially creeps in the acknowledgement. "I'm sure if we work together, we can find a place that would accept you and help you have a bright future."

"God, you're so clueless!" she sneers, tossing her phone aside and glaring at you. "I don't need your stupid help. Now get out of my room!"

Struck by the relentless barrage of insults, you find your patience dwindling. "You cannot continue speaking to me like that," you warn, your voice raised. "We might not be able to change the past, but you will listen to me and treat me with respect."

"Or what? You'll spank me like some little kid?" she mocks, her eyes narrowing with contempt.

The mention of spanking plants the idea in your mind. Although she's technically an adult, it seems that she never really learned to respect authority, and part of you wonders if it might not be a terrible idea to teach her some humility. As the thought solidifies, you find yourself more and more tempted to go through with it.

"You know what?" you growl, frustration lining your brow, "Maybe that's exactly what you need."

Before she can react, you stride over to the bed in just a few steps, grab her arm and pull her over your knee. She struggles and protests, kicking her legs and yelling at you to let her go, but you hold her firmly in place.

This particular display of parental authority might not be the most conventional, but as her harsh words echo in your memory, you take a breath and give her a firm swat on her backside. She yelps in surprise and outrage, but you continue, hoping that it might finally penetrate her stubborn wall of defiance, and perhaps begin to mend the strained relationship between the two of you.