Spare the Rod

This story was written for my lovely friend Julie Chastised, who I'm sure will be an amazing mother when the time comes. She first had the idea for a Supernanny story, so kudos to her and all respect to Jo Frost who I think is an incredibly talented woman with brilliant ideas. Ms Frost is also very very similar in appearance to me, when she takes her hair down and her glasses off: I was stunned how much like me she looks when she first appeared on television, so now you know what Kirsten looks like. Sort of. Enjoy Kayley's adventures in Surrey!


Tuesday Morning:
Kayley locked the door to her flat and put the key into her bag. She enjoyed her job as host of UKBC’s Spare The Rod, a child-raising advice show which had just entered its eleventh year on British television and was now being shown on Ireland’s RTE-3, but she was never happy about having to return to London to film there. Kayley had spent seven years as a secondary school teacher in the Home Counties and had been delighted to be offered the chance to leave London when UKBC approached her about taking on the show last year after the original host, Dr Rodney Fessey, had retired to his property in Umbria (or was it Cumbria?) with Donna his second, French wife.


Kayley was running late, her usual short hop across the Irish Sea from Belfast to Stansted had been curtailed by UK Terror warnings, and so, oddly enough, she was now required to leave the United Kingdom by road, drive herself to Dublin, and then fly across to Gatwick and re-enter the United Kingdom before taking a UKBC film crew across to Esher for the filming. She hated Surrey, believing it to be full of snobs, and of course the children of snobs: brats. I suppose that’s why their landmass is called Great Brattan she said to herself for the one hundredth time. At least the drive from airport to location would be that much shorter, Stansted was miles away from anything.


The drive down was, in the end, quite pleasant: A32, N87, N3, M50, M1; and UKBC’s driver was quite a pleasant chap who spoke only when spoken to and then offered to carry Kayley’s bag for her. Check-in also went smoothly, except for the inevitable mix up with her name: it happened almost every time.


Aer Lingus girl: Good morning Kayley, I love your show.
Kayley: Thank you; may I have an aisle seat?
Aer Lingus girl: Of course. Hey, your passport says your name is…
Kayley: Yes, that is what my name is. Kayley is actually my initials.
Aer Lingus girl: Oh yes, hey my middle name is also L…
Kayley: Thank you Allison, are we done now?

At least they were letting her fly Aer Lingus rather than BA.

Kayley was pleased to find that the studio had been organised enough to put her car at Gatwick for her, and the film crew were waiting to film her as she came through Immigration. Similar to other programs of the sort on American television, Kayley would always be seen arriving at the new house for her four day stay in the same car, in her case a bright yellow Vauxhall Monaro VXR. If Jo Frost can have a London cab in America the least Britain can do for me is give me an Australian car Kayley had insisted at the interview, and UKBC had agreed. Rod had had only an old Morris Mentor.


The house in Esher was exactly how Kayley had expected it to be: having lived in one of the wealthier areas of Southern England for several years she knew how “the other half lived”. Indeed she’d been teaching their progeny until August 2007 when the ban on Antipodean teachers without British “QTS” or “Qualified Teacher Status” had forced her out of Education entirely. Six bedrooms, double garage which opened onto a driveway holding a boat and a Mercedes McLaren sports car: at least they were petrol-headed snobs this time; Kayley knew her dad back in the shack in Cygnet would be pleased. Kayley pulled the Monaro to a stop around the corner from the house so as to be able to be filmed “arriving”, then went across to the UKBC van and sat in the back reading over the notes on her laptop. She knew Jo Frost used to do this in the back of her taxi, but since Kayley’s style was to drive herself, you as the adult must always be in the driving seat, she needed to stop to read her case-studies. She was surprised at Jo Frost’s being in America, weren’t there enough bratty kids in England? But then that’s how it was, English girls go overseas to Au Pair whilst Antipodeans and Polish girls were asked to serve “the bottle of Britain”. It was time to go.


“Good afternoon and welcome to Spare The Rod, the programme where we hope to help parents at the end of their tether to deal with the misbehaviours of their children without the need to resort to physical, emotional, or verbal violence. I’m Kayley and today I’m in Esher, Surrey, with the MacDonnell family. Jeff MacDonnell is dad and he works for a finance company organising ISAs: his new wife Julie is full time step-mum to Jeff’s two children and is also studying part-time at The University of Guildford. The two little tackers are seven year old Marissa and two year old Fry: let’s go say hello.” The camera drew back to a shot of Kayley walking up to the Monaro, and then cut away.


Marissa and Fry? No wonder the poor little buggers have issues thought Kayley as she turned the key and kicked the 5.0 V8 into action. She loved her car, big golden spear that it was, with black leather seats. The Monaro was the only Australian car available to purchase new in Europe, and was named for both an aboriginal word meaning “High Place” (Kayley preferred to think “high road”), and for the local area around Canberra, Australia’s capital city. She’d named the car “Brindabella”, also a local word to the Yuin-Monaro people.


“Heya Kayley, did you get those kids’ names? Ten quid says you can’t tame the beast this time, who names their kid Fry?” Kayley’s kiwi camera-man Bill was always up for a bet.

Kayley smiled, “ten quid nothin’ Billy boy; if I can’t get Fry calmed down and Marissa eating her veggies without a fuss by Friday then I’ll let Jeff MacDonnell spank me himself.”

“Ka mate!”

“Ka ora!”


Wednesday Morning:
After her first night in the house Kayley was up early and ready for her full day of observation. She’d taken a long morning bath in the lovely guest bathroom and had made use of all three big fluffy towels that Julie ad set out for her, before reading her Bible study and then her crib-sheet on Jeff, Julie, and the children. Jeff had been widowed only weeks after Fry’s birth, and he had met Julie only seven months ago. Julie was a lovely girl, Kayley felt herself warming instantly to her, but she was struggling to keep up with her studies and the need to look after her step-children and her always busy husband. This was no family of the “just scream louder” chav-types Kayley was used to working with, but a truly lovely family who had gone through a great deal of grief, turmoil, and change for no fault of their own. The kids were not “brats” by any means, Kayley wondered if this story was to be more of a “not all kids are arseholes” piece than one of the usual breed of “the madder the better” episodes. Jeff and Julie were keen to try anything, even Marissa seemed to be up for new ways to make “daddy and Oolie-boolie” happier. Kayley smiled and wished she’d taken Bill’s tenner bet, it would have been money in the bank.


Friday Morning:
“Too often it seems as though parents are to blame for the poor behaviour of their children, indeed I think that however a child behaves it is primarily the effect of a parental cause, both for good and for bad forms of behaviour. Nevertheless it will always be my opinion that there is no such thing as a bad child, only a child who exhibits unacceptable behaviours in certain contexts. Raise a child in the way that she should go and when she is older she shall not depart from it it says in the Christian Bible. How ever a child is raised, that’s how the adult will act in later years, be it positive and social, or negative and antisocial.” Kayley often did a piece to camera along these lines, but in this episode she felt it ever so strongly: Jeff and Julie were lovely people with lovely kids, but the kids were confused and stressed. Marissa had just that morning thrown her porridge at Jeff, just as he was leaving for work, and he had had to go and change his suit. Ordinarily Julie would have spanked Marissa for that, but this morning Marissa had been sent to “the thinking place,” (a stool in the kitchen), while Julie and Kayley talked about alternatives to smacking.


“I just don’t understand it Kayley, Fry has settled so well with you here and I am extremely confident in the ideas you gave me for him. Jeff just loves being allowed to cuddle his son, the fact that you told him that dads should be affectionate with their boys is just the encouragement they both needed. It’s so lovely, Jeff was almost crying last night as we were drifting off to sleep, he’s so in love with that boy it’s amazing. And speaking of amazing, you should have heard the sex we…”

Kayley smiled.

“Oh God no, really?”

Kayley bit her lip, still smiling. “Good for you.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be, the best thing you can do for his kids…”

“…our kids, Kayley…”

Kayley smiled, “…for your kids Julie, the best thing is to love their dad. If you love Jeff, and they see you loving Jeff, that’s the best thing. That they are not only his kids is also a big help. But you were saying you don’t understand something?”

“Yes, it’s Marissa. She’s even worse.”


Kayley was confused as well. Marissa had been so welcoming when she’d arrived, proudly telling everyone, including the rolling camera, that “Kelly from the Telly” was staying in their downstairs room. The observation day, (it was school holidays so Marissa was home), had highlighted a few points of interest, and Marissa had looked positively worried when Julie had told her that the wooden spoon was going to be retired from active service as Kayley had some new ideas on behaviour management. Marissa had taken well to “the thinking place”, professed a genuine interest in the sticker chart programme, and had chosen her own reward for a sheet full of stickers as a princess picnic party for six of her friends in the gardens of Hampton Court, to which she had specifically asked Julie if it was okay to also invite Kayley in addition to the six friends. What, then, had happened on Wednesday night that had sent Marissa spare on Thursday and Friday?


“And I’m afraid I have a confession to make Kayley.” Julie looked up. “We were having such fun last night that I promised Jeff he could spank me the next time Marissa did something naughty. Not that I’m adverse to such things, but it worries me that Marissa is still being naughty.”

Kayley burst out laughing, only then remembering the bet she had made with Bill. “I have a similar bet: with Bill the sound man.”

“The Maori fellow?”

“He’s not Maori, he’s Pakeha, but yes that’s the one. Kayley gets it over Jeff’s knee if Marissa doesn’t eat nicely by Friday.”

“I take it that would displease you?”

“Apart from the fact that he’s your husband, it would displease me only as much as it would you. I’m not sure I want the viewing public of Great Britain and Ireland to see me skirt-to-the-sky, but I must admit I’m not dreading the adrenalin rush a good smack brings. No, like you, it’s more that Marissa’s a lovely wee girl and shouldn’t be responding like this, I have missed something I’m sure. When a kid goes crazy like she did it’s because she’s acting out of need: but with you and Jeff loving her as you do and she so willing beforehand to help out it seems something is upsetting her. It concerns me that I can’t see it.”


“Man how are you doing this? Kayley’s done all the usual stuff and this kid was Goldie-locks in a box to start with.” Bill was sitting outside the UKBC van having a smoke with Rick, the second camera operator, and had just mentioned his bet with the star of the show.

“Yeah glucose eh.”

“You what now?”

“It’s glucose. I’ve been spiking the little girl’s juice with it so she’s hyperactive. Not enough to give her actual hyperglycaemia, but a big enough hit hidden in her drink to make her edgy.”

“Bill that’s bastard behaviour; whatever it earns you with Kayley that’s screwing up the kid more so.”

“Yeah, but anyway I finished now. The bet was by Friday, well it is Friday and the kid sent Oaties Comet across the table this morning so the decision is made. Kayley shouldn’t have any issue now, not with the girl anyway. Shit, time to get back in there.”


“Ooh Julie, I need a quick wee and then we need to film some more of Marissa playing outside. Can you give her a big shot of filter water from the jug I asked you to put on the bench, let’s try her without the juice today, and then I’ll meet you in the garden.” Kayley unfolded her legs from beneath her and stood up from the sofa. Rather than trudging back to her own en suite she went across the hallway and into the bathroom used by the children during the day; Marissa was just coming out. “Your mummy, I mean, Julie, wants you in the garden now Marissa.”

“Thank you Kelly, I’m very sorry about the porridge.”

“So am I Marissa.”

“I’m sorry I’m not in the thinking place, I needed to twink: and I think Oolie-boolie is my mum now anyway.”

Kayley smiled and went into the bathroom, where she was surprised to see that the toilet bowl had a bright yellow tinge to it. Marissa had forgotten to flush, and she was obviously sending out a rather concentrated by-product. Kayley nodded to herself as she recalled her last instruction to Julie to put Marissa on water.


Friday Evening:
Filming went well and Julie and Marissa had had a most enjoyable afternoon playing together whilst Fry had taken an afternoon rest. Kayley had sat in the corner with a clipboard and a film crew; she’d been very pleased with what she’d seen. Over dinner with Jeff the family discussed their progress, Marissa apologised to Jeff over the porridge throwing, and Julie was able to tell him that Marissa had been as good as gold for the remainder of the day following a short spell in the thinking place and two big glasses of water. Filming ended with several combinations of kiss-cuddle around the table, the final one showing Kayley in the midst of a group-hug. The crew then took their cameras out to their van and drove back to UKBC for the night while Kayley put the children to bed and allowed Jeff and Julie time to catch up. Bill remained with a hand-held camera in the guise of “Kayley-Vision” to film any last-minute comments from the children, he would then take the Monaro back to UKBC leaving Kayley with the family for one last night.


“They’re beautiful kids Kayley; you’ve done us proud this time.” Bill put his arm around Kayley’s shoulder and squeezed her arm. Kayley lay her head into his neck and put her arm around his waist.

“Thanks mate, but it was a struggle; we got there in the afternoon at last with Marissa but the morning and Thursday were a struggle.”

“So you remember the wager then.”

Kayley smiled and raised her head, “of course Billy boy, it’s only the children we don’t smack on this show.”


“Julie you are amazing, you’ve given me my children back: their mother would be so proud of them right now.” Jeff was lying on the couch with his head in Julie’s lap; she was stroking his hair absently.

“As you should be, did you know Marissa told Kayley that I’m her mummy now?”

Jeff sat up as Kayley and Bill arrived back in the room and kissed Julie deeply on the mouth. “That’s so wonderful my darling.”

“You both look very happy there,” commented Kayley, “it’s good to see. More of that and your kids will be even more amazing than they are now.”

“More kissing Julie, less smacking Marissa and Fry, more kissing Marissa and Fry. What a lovely instruction.” Jeff kissed Julie’s cheek and stood up, offering a hand and a kiss to Kayley, who accepted both.

“Ah Jeff, but what about smacking Julie? More or less of that? She told me about your little wager. Oh man of little faith to have ever doubted me!” Kayley laughed at Jeff’s obvious embarrassment, and then smiled as he smiled back.

“I believe you had a similar arrangement with this gentleman here? My wife is no less reliable at keeping your secrets than mine. What say we tally up the score-sheet now?”

“Ah, but I got Marissa to behave on Friday, so I‘m immune,” responded Kayley, “but it was a close run thing.”

“Yes Kayley, but our bet was by Friday. She was still killing cereal on Friday morning, the deadline was exceeded.” Bill turned to Julie and Jeff. “Eh?”

“Well if I have to, she has to!” pouted Julie.

Kayley smiled. “Put the camera down Bill; Jeff, hand this man a chair.”


All agreed to Kayley’s un-stated but understood shift in the betting, she’d be spanked by Bill rather than Jeff. “Right Kayley, I won’t use your full name as I know you don’t like that, but you must accept the consequence of your actions. Marissa threw her breakfast this morning and that is unnerseptable.” She laughed at Bill’s use of Jo Frost’s pronunciation. “Spare the Rodney, Spoil the Kayley. Bend over missy!”


Kayley lay herself across Bill’s wide knees and felt her dress being flipped up before whack-whack-whack-whack as one of the wooden spoons made a brief comeback from retirement: Jeff had fetched them from the bureau for use in his games with Julie and had passed one across. Bill continued to smack as he sounded out his warning in punctuated phrases. “Kayley-must-take-more-care-in-her-work. Kayley-must-take-better-care-in-her-observations.” Whack-whack-whack-whack.

Kayley was amazed at the feelings rising up in her as she felt her bottom begin to burn. Her modesty was protected by a pair of thick cotton knickers, but she still felt the acute embarrassment of a girl having her bottom smacked for naughtiness. It felt wonderful, and she sighed when the dress was flipped down and Bill raised his left knee as an indication for her to rise. She’d not been spanked in such a long time; it had been far less fun when she was twelve. She stood up and gave herself a good rubbing.

“Syrup BP was it?” Kayley whispered so as to avoid Marissa’s parents hearing, not that they were paying much attention any more.

“Glucose. How did you know?”

“She pissed gold at lunch; you owe me a tenner, and Julie an apology.”

Kayley and Bill looked across as Jeff expertly pulled down his wife’s tights and knickers with his thumbs, and then continued his percussive reinforcement of house standards of behaviour upon a giggling Julie.

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t think she minds that much.”

Kayley smiled as Julie told Jeff “I’ve been much naughtier than that, you spank like a girl!”

“What say we finish an evening early, William, and leave these remarkable parents to work on their skills together?”

Bill sighed and smiled, “yes indeed, indeed. I believe your work here is done, congratulations; Kirsten Louisa.”

“Shh!”