He called a meeting at the church. My parents, his wife, their Bible study group, the pastor, the Children’s Church leaders.

“Tina has been swearing and using the Lord’s name in vain”, his wife hissed.

I was small, seven years old.

Confused. I had sworn, but never in public, never where church members would ever hear me.

I wasn’t stupid.

The thoughts of a seven year old: “Why is the Lord in my veins and how could I have stopped that and why is this such a problem?”

Panicked.

Crushed by the disappointment visibly growing in this group of adults.

Silently pleading, with my eyes aimed towards the man called The Candy Man and beloved by all.

He never looked at me.

Not even once.

“Be nice to him! He loves kids so much, just be nice to him. Just smile and go get a piece of candy!” my parents had often encouraged their daughter, who had Good Reason To Be Wary. “Go sit on his lap! He is just being nice!”

The group of adults joined hands in a circle around me and began praying over A Sin-Filled Little Girl in the fellowship hall of Family Worship Center in Rockford, Illinois.

It felt like this ceremony lasted for hours. It was probably fifteen minutes.

This circle reminded me of playing hot potato with the other kids at Children’s Church.

My heart pleaded as I grew even smaller in the room, “I was not going to tell 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓!”

After church, we stopped at the grocery store. My brothers and Mom went inside and Dad and I stayed in the car to chat.

Very casually he asked, as he draped one arm out of the rolled down window, looking in to the parking lot, “Do you want your punishment now or when we get home?”

“W-what?”

His head snapped around and he looked at me. “Do you want your punishment now? To get it over with? Or do you want to wait until we get home?”

I was speechless.

How would I answer that question? I want no punishment. I didn’t do anything wrong.

Plus, hadn’t I been healed or forgiven or whatever that whole circle thing was back at the church?

Dad was growing impatient. I could feel it.

I quickly weigh my options.

I work out that getting spanked in the car would be awkward with people walking all around. He probably wouldn’t be able to get a full wind up and swing but I decide later at home he might forget, and at the least he will be more calm.

I quietly reply, “Home.”

Back at home, Mom was putting groceries away. The boys split off to play and do their things.

Dad walked me in to the living room.

He sat down on the edge of the recliner.

From previous experience I knew not to run away or delay the inevitable. I walked towards him and stood in front of him.

We awkwardly helped each other lay me across his lap.

There is not a way to be comfortable laying across someone’s lap on your stomach while they sit in a recliner.

My upper body and legs were hyperextended. I briefly attempt to brace my upper body with my forearms on the arms of the recliner but ultimately faceplant and the weight of my body awkwardly falls across my father’s lap.

He slowly pulls my pants down.

I go somewhere else.

The next thing I know he is awkwardly helping me off of his lap.

I try to shimmy my pants up past my butt in the same motion but am unsuccessful.

I keep my eyes down. I pull up my pants.

I am not crying but I am sad. As I write this I can’t connect to any other feelings that I had at the time except shame.

*****

That man’s wife was a Royal Cunt towards me after that and made my life completely miserable at church.