"Don't you want to dress first? You'll be late," I asked.
"I don't have school. The teachers have some kind of meeting-thing for the day. I'll just hang."
Paul joined us, setting his suitcase by the door, and kissing his wife and daughter. We ate amid animated conversation and double helpings of pancakes until it was time for Timmy and Paul to leave. Karen took Timmy upstairs to get ready as Paul and I cleaned up.
"We'll miss you," I said.
"Not as much as I'll miss you guys," he answered as the airport limo honked outside.
Timmy came bounding down the stairs with Karen behind him. "You can't wear red and purple together, Timmy! You look like shit!"
"Don't care; it's my favorite shirt."
Paul stopped in his tracks. "Karen, what did you say?" She'd never to my knowledge used the word in front of her father.
"Nothing," she answered, stopping half way down the stairs. Timmy's bus honked outside and he dashed around his father and out the door.
"Karen," Paul said sternly. "I'll . . ."
I interrupted him. "Go. I'll take care of it. You'll miss your plane."
"I'll talk to you when I get back, young lady."
"I'll take care of it," I repeated. "Go." He kissed me good bye, and Karen as well as she met him in the hall. He reluctantly left, leaving the two of us alone. She followed me into the kitchen.
I said nothing. When she could no longer stand the silence, she asked. "What are you going to do?"
"Punish you." Then I asked, "Bad dreams last night?"
"I don't want to talk about that. Besides, what's the big deal? You say shit. I've heard you."
"Neither to your little brother nor in front of him. You know better. It's unlike you."
"It just slipped out."
"Do your friends use that language?"
"Not Julie or Anne."
"Let me guess. Mary Ellen has a more extensive vocabulary. You're still going to be punished."
"What are you going to do, spank me?" she said sarcastically. "Wash my mouth out with soap?"
"No. I don't hit children. I'll never do that. That's a promise but you'll still be punished."
"You can't do anything to me. You're not my mother."
"Upstairs. Into my room."
She grumbled but did as she was told. When we arrived, I directed her to the love chair. I turned on the radio and went into the bathroom to shower and dress. "Stay there until I say you can get up," I told her. "That's your punishment." She was still there when I emerged, dressed in shorts and halter and drying my wet hair.