His Boys

Sir, Yes Sir (R)

My oldest was driving me crazy. He's hellbent on pushing against every rule I've set. I think he's only arguing just to argue at this point.

"You can not just go do whatever you want, wherever you want without permission, Ryley. I expected you to be there, and you weren't." I scolded.

"I just went to the library with my friends, Dad. Stop acting like I did something terrible. I'm 15, and I don't need a babysitter." He said defiantly.

"It's not about where you went or what you did. the bottom line is that you didn't have permission." I reiterated.

"Oh? So I could go off and get drunk, and I'd be punished the same as if I had gone to the library? Makes tons of sense, Dad." Ryley sassed.

"You know that's not what I meant." I growled.

"I know what you meant. You want me to be one of your little soldiers instead of having a social life." He growled.

"Go to your room. You're grounded for the weekend." I ordered.

"Go to hell. You're not my damn Sargent." He seethed, running to his room and slamming the door.

He wants to see Sargent? I'll give him Sargent.

I follow down the hall behind him and throw his door open.

"I don't know who you think you are, boy, or where you think you get off with that attitude under my roof, but let's get one thing straight, you will never speak to me like that ever again, are we clear, young man?" I scolded.

"Sir, yes, Sir." My smart-ass replies with a salute and a smile like the cat who got the cream.

"Attention!" I yelled, using a voice I haven't in twenty-some years.

Ryley startles at the volume of my yell and looks at me like I've grown a second head.

"Now, soldier!" I ordered.

Ryley moved hesitantly to stand in front of me, hands at his sides.

"Dad -"

"Speak only when spoken to." I warned.

"Yes, sir." He mumbled.

"Speak up." I corrected.

"Yes, sir." He repeated.

"You want Sargent, you get Sargent, son."

Ryley looks up at me, confused.

"From now on, until this attitude of yours improves, young man, you will be treated like a soldier."

"Dad, I-"

"What did I just say?"

"Speak only when spoken to, sir," he grumbles, still with the attitude, rolling his eyes.

I narrow my eyes at him before gripping his shoulder, turning him to the side, and laying stinging swats over the seat of his jeans.

"Wanna try that again, soldier?" I ask, putting emphasis on the last word.

"I'm pretty sure they don't spank soliders." He muttered.

"Soliders don't usually act like brats either, but we're doing this my way."

"Drop and give me twenty." I ordered.

"Not until you drop this bullshit. Sir." Ryley smiled.

I grabbed his bicep and leaned down to growl into his ear, "either you drop and give me twenty right now, Ryley Alexander, or I swear to God, I'm dropping you over my knee and giving you twenty of something else."