“Well, it sounds like your indian mother needs you to get that done first, and then you can finish frosting your cupcakes. Okay?” “Okay, Daddy,” she said. My husband kissed her on the forehead. “Okay, honey, go get it done. I'm sorry your mother overreacted.” I ground my teeth as my daughter darted off in those tight shorts she wore. They molded to her tight ass and left her long legs bare. My husband glanced at her for a second and shook his head, glancing back at me. I glared at him. “What?” he asked. “That's it?” I demanded. “She called me a bitch, she defied me, and you're not going to punish her?” “She didn't seem that defiant saree to me,” he said. “You don't have to yell at her. If you just act nicely, treat her like an adult, she'll respond.” I marched up to my husband. “We've spoiled her. We have to stop coddling her. She's a brat. You need to be firmer with her.” My husband rolled his eyes. “What, do you want me to do, spank her?” “Yes!” His smile fell off his face. “Jesus, I was joking. We both agreed that spanking's bad.” “And look at the results. If you hadn't come here, she would have left my kitchen a disaster, and I would have had to clean it.” He shook his head. “Anna, she's just a young woman. “Yes, it was,” panted Adelia. After school started, the girls got together after lunch to review the summer. “Thump indian me quick; I must be dreaming.” “It’s for you. I felt a chill run up my spine. Inexperienced hands groped at them, I didn’t mind, at least she reached saree for them herself. Every penny of it. “Holy Shit! She looked down, and it took her a moment to realize her Dad was nibbling on her tit. I heard a muffled sound clearly in another room, but where? I begin trying to concentrate on ways to identify the culprits for later. Honest!" I was crying hysterically. She was laughing now as she stared me down.