CHAPTER TWENTY

Reader’s Note: This is Joanne Swift’s journal, adapted for reading, detailing the events around October 9^th (Sunday) 2016. It is after lunch and Taylor has just set up a date with Brandon.

Brandon wisely decided to leave shortly after lunch. He’d just set up a date with my daughter, and I assumed the awkward teenager was leaving to either celebrate his good fortune or to avoid accidentally saying something stupid and ruining his chances.

Brandon reminded me of Charlie Brown. Charlie is the cartoon lovable loser with a cloud over his head who always struck out but kept swinging or kicking for the field goal anyway. The thing about Charlie is that he’s elected the CAPTAIN of the softball team. It may be the losingest of all softball teams, but he’s the LEADER – there’s something ironic about being the lead loser.

I suppose in that sense Donny may have been more like Charlie Brown and Brandon was his friend Linus.

I didn’t say anything more about the date because Tom could come home and say ‘absolutely not’ anyway. We hadn’t discussed our relationship with the kids, but it was generally accepted without saying that Tom made the rules and was going to make the decisions.

Janie had been patiently waiting for her sister to spend time with her, and she couldn’t wait any longer. She started pulling her sister’s arms and pushing her upstairs, and I told Taylor to go ahead.

Janie was asking her what her favorite Pokémon was and showing her the Pokémon Go game on her phone while talking to her about Polly Pockets, Rainbow Brite, and Barbie dolls.

Scotty laughed at how frenetic she was being.

“Don’t laugh,” I reminded him that he had done the same thing when Uncle Bud visited, except it was all about Star wars, comic books, and video games.

“Uncle Bud’s a cartoonist! That’s totally different!” Scotty said.

I laughed that it wasn’t. Bud was my husband’s best friend, and he used to hang out with us when the kids were little. They still remembered him with fondness for bringing them cosplay costumes. I’ll never forget how hard they laughed when I asked if Scotty was dressed as Zelda the elf from one of his favorite video games.

“I’m dressed as Link, Mom.” A much-younger Scotty had informed me that I was a “noob” who didn’t know the difference between Link and Zelda. “Link is the elf in the green armor, and Zelda is the Princess he always has to rescue!”

I remember laughing that some princesses don’t want to be rescued after all. Scotty told me back then that was silly, and all princesses need rescuing, but I just smiled and nodded.

Once Taylor was occupied and the boys had their lunch, I turned my attention to cleaning up the dishes in the sink. I knew I was supposed to leave it for Taylor to do, but it was a habit to clean up. I texted Tom.

Master, I gave FF an affirmation! It went very, very well. I think you would have been proud. I will tell you tonight when you ravish me. I can hardly wait. How is it going?

He texted back a minute later:

Who is FF? Oh Fart Face. That is amazing. I knew you could do it. I can’t wait to hear all about it. I am knee deep in it. They didn’t order enough SQL licenses for the upgrade to CRM 2016 and now we are dead in the water on a Sunday. We are trying to get through to procurement now. See you soon.

I wasn’t sure what was more odd about his response: the fact that he had to ask who FF was, or the fact he didn’t saying anything about my suggestion he ravish me. Who else would I have given an affirmation to that had the initials FF? He normally texted dirty to me all day long and gave me orders and instructions.

I texted him again.

That’s a bummer about all that. I wish I could make it better. Is there anything you would like me to do in private? I could take a picture and text it to you.

He had no reason to ever doubt me, but he treated me a lot like Taylor when we were in private, in that he made me always prove myself to him. He didn’t just take my word for it that I was training at home. I had to send him a selfie demonstrating my obedience. I even coined the term a ’Belfie‘ which is a picture of my butt, and had gotten very creative about using the mirror to show him what I had done to it for him.

No, not right now.

That was frustrating.

I texted a frantic and desperate reply so that Tom would understand exactly what I was after.

May I play with myself in private, Master?

His response was not what I expected.

Always thinking of yourself and your own pleasures. I don’t know who requires more attention, you or your daughter. You may go upstairs, undress and make yourself cum, but then I want you watching FF like a hawk.

I wrote several responses but deleted them before deciding to send the next one. I started my first one with an angry response about Taylor being MY daughter when she does something wrong, but decided quickly that wasn’t going to be very helpful and it would make me sound like a petulant child that was angry she was told she can’t play with her favorite toy – my own cunt.

I knew that it was easy to misunderstand a text, and like most women I tended to read into what was being sent and see things that were not intended. I tried a couple much softer responses before sending a much more supportive and understanding one.

I am sorry, Master. I am not used to being in charge. I am so sorry for bothering you while you are trying to work with my perverse desires. You are ABSOLUTELY correct as always and I should be supervising FF. She has not been in discipline for a full day and needs OUR loving guidance. I will submit to whatever punishment you see fit to remind me of this. Thank you Master.

I waited for Tom to reply, but no text came. I pretended to be checking my Facebook and looking around the Internet, but I was nervously awaiting his assurance that he wasn’t upset with me. I knew he was probably too busy to respond, but I was hopeful.

I fantasized about Tom tying me up and making me fuck myself, but felt a little guilty. I decided to check on Fart Face and see if everything was going fine instead. I didn’t expect that Taylor needed supervision – she was just supposed to play with and amuse Janie. How hard could that be?

I walked upstairs and without knocking opened Janie’s bedroom door. I could hear Taylor Swift music coming out of the radio as I entered, and laughter, so I thought everything was fine. “How are you two doing?” I asked with a smirk as I walked in.

I couldn’t talk until I picked my jaw up off the ground.

There was my adorable youngest daughter running around the room wearing nothing but an apron and high heels with her bare ass hanging out and shaking it, while singing along to the music like she was a contestant on one of those TV shows that promise to make you a superstar like America’s Got Talent.

She was stomping around in Taylor’s shoes and holding a plastic microphone while singing off-key and dancing.

Taylor was completely naked with makeup all over her face, and lying flat on her stomach with her ass up in the air over a plastic Hasbro doll house that Janie’s had for way too long and that contained all her Barbie dolls and accessories. They both looked as if they’d just been caught red-handed robbing a bank on the greatest caper in the world.

“What on God’s little green earth are the two of you doing?” I demanded with my hands on my hips.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, it isn’t what it looks like.” Taylor couldn’t be more wrong when she said that. It was definitely what it looked like.

“It looks like my eldest daughter is naked with her rump stuck up in the air, while my youngest daughter runs around nearly naked in her sister’s apron. Is it that you want me to send you downstairs like that in front of the boys?” I demanded Taylor answer me.

“No, I was just playing!” Janie pouted and acted as if this were totally normal.

“What is on your face?” I asked Taylor to get up and clean it off immediately.

“It’s magic marker!” Janie answered for her, and said, “Taylor can’t get up because she’s on lockdown.”

“Why is she on lockdown?” I stood over Taylor, looking down at her for her to answer. I didn’t know what ’lockdown’ was, but it was obviously some game of pretend of Janie’s creation.

“She’s being a bad Barbie! ‘Lockdown’ is where I put all my dolls that break my heart or disappoint me.” Janie pointed to a stack of naked dolls with red magic marker on their faces and their hair cut completely off.

“I told you to play with your sister, not lock her up!” I almost laughed at how incredibly absurd that sounded once I said it out loud.

“You said I could play any game I wanted with her, and I wanted her to be a Barbie!” Janie pouted selfishly without the least bit of shyness about standing in front of me in just her sister’s white apron and heels. “I didn’t put anything up her you know what!” Janie pouted as if somehow that made imprisoning her naked sister alright.

“You can say ass now, Janie,” I told her impatiently. I didn’t really want my daughter to cuss like a sailor, but I was frustrated.

“Daddy said it was ASSHOLE and that’s a whole lot dirtier – I prefer to say the ‘you know what’,” Janie mused.

I smiled at her precociousness and told her that would be fine. “Fart Face is the only one who has to be explicit,” I said, without mentioning that in private so did I. “You can call that part of her body anything you want if it makes you more comfortable,” I said. I was still angry with her, but that was adorable.

“Can I call it a fart blaster?” Janie immediately asked for clarification.

“I really don’t care, and right now I’m more interested in your sister’s side of things.” I wasn’t going to get into these word games with Janie right now. “I would have expected you to have better judgement, Fart Face,” I addressed Taylor. “How are you going to be able to babysit a BOY her age if you let her do this to you?” I demanded my daughter answer as I bent over her to examine the bindings.

Taylor struggled with the nylon bindings, but was definitely stuck over her sister’s doll house.

“How did you learn to tie knots like this?” I asked Janie as I studied the bindings around Taylor’s wrist. Janie had stolen some of my old pantyhose and tied some very effective knots around her sister’s wrist to bind them together. The more she struggled, the tighter they would have gotten.

Janie said that Daddy had taught her.

“Why did he teach you to tie someone up that way? “I was horrified.

“He didn’t! He taught me to tie the knots the last time we went camping as a family.”

It had been several years since we’d gone camping. I was impressed she even remembered, much less retained the knowledge Tom taught her. Tom was an excellent teacher, though.

That is when I noticed the microphone in Janie’s hand was no microphone at all. “Have you been singing into Cadmus?” I was horrified.

“Don’t worry, I cleaned it first!” Janie smirked without the least bit of guilt for what she was doing.

“You cleaned it? How?” I looked down at her sister, hoping she hadn’t used her mouth as I was taught.

“With soap and water! Gross!” Janie shrugged before explaining what happened.

I was able to get to the bottom of the story and corroborate it between the two of them fairly easily while I worked to get Taylor out of the binding.

It seemed that Janie wasn’t having all that much fun with Taylor. She offered to play Barbies, sing karaoke, play Just Dance on the PlayStation One she had in her room, but Taylor didn’t want to play kid games.

I glowered at Taylor but she freely admitted that she wasn’t equipped to play those games even when she was Janie’s age. Taylor had wanted to use Janie’s bathroom and asked if she wouldn’t tell on her if she took the plug out for a while.

Janie thought she was being clever and stole the plug from Taylor off the bathroom counter and declared herself judge and jury. She made Taylor play defendant in the “Court of Janie”, and sentenced her to an hour in lockdown.

Taylor agreed on the condition Janie wouldn’t tell on her and would give her Cadmus back before she went downstairs.

Janie turned Taylor into a living baby-doll and wanted to make her “beautiful”, so she treated her like all her Barbies. She removed her clothing and began applying “makeup” to her face. I don’t give Janie actual makeup, so she used black, blue and red magic marker to paint garish, almost clown-like lipstick and eye shadow on her sister’s face.

She even wrote ‘Mattel’ on her sister’s back to complete the transformation.

Janie insisted that Taylor lay down over the doll house and tied her hands with the panty hose because she was on “lockdown”. In Janie’s mind she was punishing her sister, and so it was okay to tie her up because Daddy would.

I winced – Tom probably would tie up Taylor. It still made me very uncomfortable how easily Janie accepted that fact now.

If I had not walked in when I had, she was about to cut off her sister’s beautiful long black hair. Taylor had forgotten her natural color a long time ago. There were streaks of green and purple from previous dye jobs. She wore her hair differently all the time and had even got an undercut shaved into the side of her head one particularly rebellious summer before we moved here. It would have broken Taylor’s heart if her sister had chopped off all her hair. There were a pair of rusted safety scissors that looked like Janie had pulled out to do the job laying by the doll house.

That is when I noticed the thick black mane of pubic hair was missing from Taylor’s crotch. I don’t normally look at her pussy, but there it was: the outline of her lips.

She’d done a terrible job of chopping at the hair, and it was uneven and bumpy.

“Did you SHAVE your sister?” I was horrified as I asked Janie if she had started on her pubic hair.

“Gross, no!” Janie laughed.

“You said I could shave, so that’s what I was doing in the bathroom! You know how when I was talking to Brandon, Ma’am?” she said in her defense.

“I said I would THINK about it and that I would talk to your father about it.” I was horrified. Tom would never approve of how she’d shaved herself, and he was probably going to be livid. I don’t know if it was worse she did it without permission, or that she’d done such an uneven and incomplete job.

I felt guiltier than ever for asking to play with myself over text. I may have just averted a real disastrous situation that would have taken months for Taylor to grow back that hair. If I’d been watching them this wouldn’t have happened at all.

“You never explained why you were dancing around in the apron?” I asked Janie.

“Well duh! I want to be Taylor Swift, a superstar, and my sister doesn’t! So I shake it to the left, I shake it to the right, I shake it to the guy I like the best. I shake it off…” Janie began singing and dancing around again.

I heard Sandor barking downstairs and knew someone was at the door.

“You better hope that’s not your father downstairs, home before I have time to wash this mess off your face,” I warned Taylor.

“Please, please! Ma’am.” Taylor begged me not to tell him what happened.

“You’re going to be punished, I’m sure.” I asked if that was really all that surprising to her by now. “You’re probably going to meet Lucifer for this one, so I’d get ready if I were you.” I was livid, and told Janie to give Taylor back the apron.

“Will I be punished? Do I have to wear an apron?” Janie now stood before me stark naked. She had the slight wisps of blonde pubic hair that matched her golden mane of long blonde hair, and budding nipples that signal the onset of puberty.

“I doubt it.” I couldn’t actually be sure – Tom had already set the precedent that if any of them abused his trust that they could end up joining her, and he wasn’t the kind to make idle threats.

“That’s what I’m worried about, Ma’am.” Taylor was putting on her apron. I heard the door open downstairs and I knew it was Tom from the sounds below. “I’ll take Lucifer and anything else you want to do to me for my part in this, but I’m worried about my little sister, Ma’am.”

Taylor, who’d never given a second thought to the comfort or well-being of any other human being in the world besides herself, suddenly wanted me to believe she cared about the fate of her sister?

“If Tom decides she should be punished, then I’m not going to stand in his way,” I said firmly.

Janie’s face turned lemony as she squinted at me with anger. I shrugged at her that she’d have to pay the piper if Tom thought it was best.

“Scotty and Donny are NEVER going to let me live this down. I’ll be 85 years old and the two of them will still be gumming how I showed my ass that time when we were growing up,” Taylor imitated two perverted old men gumming their food with no false teeth and talking about their sister’s shenanigans. “If Dad finds out that she stole Cadmus, cleaned it with her hands and tied me to the doll house, don’t you think he’ll tell her that she needs to learn how it feels to actually wear it properly, and to be tied up so she won’t do that to anyone else? Please? I promise I’ll accept any punishment he wants for me, but please don’t tell about Janie, Ma’am!”

“So what do you want me to do?” I was listening and told Taylor to hurry and get Cadmus back in because I heard Tom calling for us downstairs.

Taylor dropped to her feet and apologized to Janie for doing this in front of her. “This is how Cadmus goes back in,” Taylor said, as she kneeled on the ground and sat on Cadmus to clench him with her ass cheeks. She forced it into her ass the way I had shown her, and wiggled her butt to seat it.

“Gross! I have to do THAT now? Oh my gawsh! No!” Janie was in shock.

Taylor suggested that I tell Tom nothing about Janie taking Cadmus or tying her up. “Just tell Dad that we were playing Barbie and I volunteered to let her do my makeup. I’ll ask for Lucifer if he’s angry with me, Ma’am.”

I considered her words carefully, but we had to get downstairs quickly, and it would only make things worse if I wasted any more time. I don’t do well having to make decisions quickly under pressure.

My father used to say, “I wasn’t sure if I had to shit or fart-- so I closed one eye, cocked my leg and out came a fart,” when he had to make a split decision and wasn’t sure of the outcome.

I told Taylor that I would think about it and checked her over to make sure the collar, apron, heels and Cadmus were perfect very quickly, and then headed downstairs to greet my husband.

“There are the ladies of the house,” Tom was in a good mood until he saw Taylor’s face.

Then he was a great mood.

I didn’t expect him to laugh out loud. I have always wondered where the expression ROTFL came from. I had never seen anyone roll on the floor laughing before, but Tom almost did.

I had to admit, once we were downstairs, Janie’s handiwork on Taylor’s face looked downright totally humiliating.

“You look like Tammy Faye Bakker’s slutty cousin just had an ice-cold bucket of water thrown over her head,” he said.

Taylor asked who Tammy Faye Bakker even was, but it was drowned out by her father’s laughter which was infectious enough to make both Janie and I laugh. It wasn’t long before Donny and Scotty took a break from playing Xbox Live to check out what we were laughing at and joined in.

“There’s a trailer park in Buckman county where you’d fit right in, Sis!” her brother Donny chuckled.

Tom asked him how he knew about that place and Donny answered, “SlutsofBuckman.com, it’s a website where they do all kinds of sexy stuff in public!”

“Son, you aren’t supposed to tell your father what perverted websites you’re looking at.” Tom was in such a good mood that he didn’t think to chastise him any further. “That stuff is probably staged with models out in Hollywood,” he said.

I didn’t even have to tell much of the story of what happened. I told Tom that I went to go check on them after he texted and they were playing Barbies and Tom filled in the rest of the details.

“I have to be honest with you too, Joanne…” Tom said. I was actually worried that he was going to tell me he was having an affair. I had no reason to be worried about his fidelity, but when we used to swing with other couples we had made a pact that we would never do anything with anyone else unless the other one knew about it.

I can be a little insecure, and over the last few days he had seemed to lose interest in me all of a sudden.

I expected the worst and was hoping he would not say anything too bad in front of the kids.

“I just haven’t been home a lot lately, and I went out to get you a little present,” Tom said that he was actually almost home when he sent his last text to me. He held a box in his hand.

The kids asked to see what was in it but Tom said that this was a gift he would give me tonight. I hugged him tightly and thanked him for the gift. It was so sweet – so like Tom to surprise me like that.

“I love you so much!” I told him as I clutched the gift box. I would secrete this away to our room to open later. I was sure if Tom wanted me to open it right then, he would have told me so. I was excitedly curious about what it was.

“I love you too!” Tom smiled, and told the kids he loved them as well, “Even you, Fart Face!”

He hugged his daughter.

“Wow, thanks Dad, I mean Master, I love you!” Taylor said.

Why this is a big deal and worthy of mention is that I couldn’t recall any time that Taylor had ever said she loved anyone or anything unless she was being ironic, sarcastic, or talking about some new rock band or shoes.

“Her friends didn’t stop back by yet, did they?” Tom asked me without acknowledging this milestone at all, or the fact she broke protocol and accidentally called him Dad. He wasn’t an ogre, but he was a stickler for rules, and he normally catches things like that.

“No sir,” I found it easy to call him ‘Sir’, and now that Taylor was doing it openly I found it seemed to fit right in naturally when talking to my husband.

“Too bad, I was hoping to do ‘the big talk’ before she goes to school tomorrow,” Tom said.

“It’s still early and you told them to come back in two hours, so in ‘Taylor time’ that’s probably about three or four hours,” I joked. My daughter had a habit of not caring about time at all and we used ‘Taylor Time’ as a term that meant much later than expected.

“In ‘Fart Face Time’, two hours means two hours.” Tom reminded Taylor that he expected her to be at school on time and to come back home right after. “You can text them to let them know we’re going for a bike ride. You know what? Just turn over your phone from now on when you get home. I’ll text them when we’ll be back. I don’t want you hinting they should stay away,” Tom said.

“Yes Master,” Taylor answered. She didn’t have her phone with her, but she’d go get it once he was done talking to her and hand it over.t home. I'ike ride. Y

“Good, now who feels like going on a family bike ride?” Tom asked us, and surprisingly everyone said yes.

We hadn’t touched the bicycles in our garage since we moved into this house. We almost didn’t pack them in the moving truck because we didn’t want to waste valuable space moving something that nobody used. The boys had stopped being interested in bikes after middle school and the girls almost never rode them.

Janie wanted to ride bikes, but only as a family, not by herself. She would ask if we could go on a family bike ride and the boys wanted to play video games, Taylor would tell her to “eat a lemon.” Her father wasn’t usually home on weekends during the day, and Janie didn’t want to go with just me.

Scotty and Donny were semi-enthusiastic about the ride as a family. That was much better than their usual response that they’d rather play video games. I would settle for that much at least, even if it was less because they wanted to do something as a family and more because Taylor had to come along with us.

“I suppose I have to run along behind one of the bikes, with my tits tied to the handlebars or something, Sir?” Taylor asked sarcastically.

“Fart Face,” Tom explained, “not everything is going to be punitive, and not every activity will be centered around your lessons in discipline. This is a fun family activity that you won’t be permitted to ruin, so you will have SOME rules. I do applaud you for creativity, but I don’t think it would be physically practical for you to be tied by your boobs to the handlebars,” Tom laughed.

“So do I have to ride in the apron and panties, Master?” Taylor pouted while acknowledging her father’s point.

I remembered Cathy, the smart-assed masochist from years ago, used to always challenge her Dominant’s rules by suggesting the most over-the-top interpretations of them in a similar manner. “I suppose you want me to offer to fuck every guy at the party now in all three holes, and if I can’t then you’ll make me walk home naked,” I remember her saying at a Nude Year’s Eve party at their house with over 70 people there.

I couldn’t help but get the sneaking suspicion that Cathy secretly wanted him to say ‘yes’, and it was her passive-aggressive way to negotiate rules that she actually wanted by suggesting them. I wondered if Taylor was doing the same thing, or if she was just trying to be sarcastic and make it sound like her dad was being an ogre.

Probably the latter.

“Sure, why not? You’re street-legal and you can tell people this is your Halloween costume.” Tom promised she could wear the apron with a smirk. “You’ll learn to be thankful I don’t require you to go out in less,” he laughed.

“I’ll get her face washed off if you want to check the tires to make sure there’s enough air in them, Sir? They sat in that hot garage for a long time without being used,” I reminded Tom.

“Nope,” Tom answered.

“No to putting air in the tires, Sir?” I was no longer even conscious of the fact I was referring to him as ‘Sir’ in front of the kids. It had become second nature in the bedroom, although I usually called him Master, too.

“Nope to both.” Tom explained that he was going to take away makeup. “She paints her face with foundation, dark eye liner and enhances her features. I was going to take that away to make her vulnerable for the same reason that I took away clothing privileges,” Tom said. “This is far better, and unless I miss my guess that’s permanent marker, so it’s not coming off without a serious scrubbing,” he laughed.

I still recalled his best friend Bud on the night before his wedding. A stripper had written a dirty word on Bud’s forehead and they scrubbed all night and couldn’t erase it all. Bud’s wife was a saint for tolerating that! She didn’t say a word about it!

“You’ll go to school with your makeup done professionally and touched up by your sister, the famous makeup artist Princess Janie, and thank her each morning,” Tom promised.

I looked at Taylor and I could see her starting to get livid. It was one thing to mess with her at the house, but now Tom was serious about humiliating her at school, and she was clearly starting to have very serious second thoughts about it.

I wondered if maybe we were laying things on a bit thick – but I trusted that Tom had a plan and I was going to stand behind him. She looked at me as if to appeal his decision. I don’t know that I’d ever, in the history of my marriage, overrode one of Tom’s decisions to give her the impression that would help. I nodded with Tom that it was for the best.

I touched her hand and with a nod to remind her that she promised to accept any punishment when she was upstairs. She clearly understood, because Taylor bit her lip and answered him, adding, “Yes Sir, thank you. I’m sure my new look will be absolutely fantastic.”

Janie was beside herself with exultant joy for the opportunity to paint her sister up in the mornings before school. I knew she had a healthy interest in makeup and I hadn’t taken the time to really give her the lessons or supplies she would need to be good at it. I think on some level I didn’t want her to turn out like Taylor, who wouldn’t be caught dead outside without perfect makeup before today.

“I don’t have to pump our tires anymore.” Tom mentioned there was no bicycle tire problem that now he had his own personal automatic bike pump. He pointed at Taylor and said that she would be blowing all the bikes to capacity and would bring them to line them up on the sidewalk next to the street.

“Yeah, blow me Sis!” Scotty made a bad pun at his sister’s expense.

Tom gave him a dirty look and continued that the rest of us could change into shorts or something appropriate for the ride and gave Taylor 15 minutes to get that done after she changed outside. “It may sound like a long time but that is 6 bikes and I’ve given you just enough time to complete the assignment. Don’t lollygag! Or you will be sorry.”

“I have to wear heels while we ride bikes, Sir?” Taylor asked with the skeptical and reluctant tone that she usually spoke in before her lessons in discipline began. I knew it was difficult to turn off that natural tone, but I hoped she would for her own sake soon.

Tom looked at me and I shook my head that it didn’t seem possible.

“Good point, Fart Face.” Tom said that she could wear the heels until she gets on her bike, and then she could carry them by the strap in her mouth.

Taylor shot him an incredulous look like he couldn’t be serious.

“Your mouth WAS used for telling lies, manipulation, and hurtful comments; now, like your ass, we’re going to put it to some use,” Tom promised.

“Yeah, your ASS was used for spreading farts and taking poops,” Scotty joined in with his father, and Janie burst out in laughter.

“If I need your help, Scotty…” Tom told him that he would ask for it before addressing Taylor. “How else will you be able to walk if we have to get off the bikes for any reason? I don’t want your bare feet getting all dirty, and if we decide to go inside a store or something they usually require bra, panties, and shoes, or no service.” He laughed at her stunned reaction, but he was not kidding in the least.

“Sorry, Dad.” Scotty seemed a bit dejected.

Tom put his hand on his son’s shoulder and told him that was alright, and he knew he was just trying to be helpful. I could see Scotty’s face brighten and that made me smile.

This family bike ride was making me smile. It was definitely outside the norm to have a daughter in discipline wearing an apron and carrying high heels in between her teeth while you rode through an affluent suburb, but we were doing something we hadn’t done in over a year.

Enjoying a Sunday Afternoon Bike Ride as a Family!