Just Desserts

I’m 20. I babysit four spoiled fucks under the age of ten who don’t understand the word “no”. Dad tells me to use “the belt” if they get out of hand.
And they do. But as much as I ache to snap the leather next to their faces to elicit terrified yelps, I don’t. Instead I dig out spoonsful of frosting from a can Mom bought that afternoon.
Mom and Dad come home, and Mom discovers the almost-empty can. Dad slips the belt from the hook and chases the boys upstairs as they tearfully insist they didn’t eat the frosting.