01/02/2026
I can't y'all! Story time 🥹💞
When we were little, we lived right beside my grandma and granddaddy. Close enough that their yard felt like home — because it was.
Right by the road there was a ditch, and on top of it sat a manhole cover. For reasons only a hardheaded child can explain, I loved standing on that thing… usually in a pair of heels that were way too big for me.
I was told very clearly:
“Do NOT get on that manhole cover. If you do, you’ll get your butt beat.”
Well… me being me. 😌
One day my granddaddy was coming home from work and caught me standing right there — heels on, proud as could be. I panicked. I slipped those shoes off, left them sitting on the manhole cover, and ran back into the yard like, “If I’m not on it anymore, it doesn’t count.”
Too late.
He saw me.
He got out of the truck, walked over to the picnic table, sat down, and said those terrifying words:
“Come here.”
Here’s the funny part though — and the part that says everything about who he was:
He never touched me.
He never spanked me. Not once.
I was always prone to nosebleeds, and right then my nose started pouring blood like it was auditioning for a drama. He looked at me and calmly said,
“Go on in the house and take care of your nose.”
So I marched inside to Grandma and announced, with my whole chest:
“Granddaddy beat me till my nose bled.”
That was my story.
And I was sticking to it. 😂
The truth is, my granddaddy was a gentle soul. The kind of man whose disappointment spoke louder than any spanking ever could. He taught lessons with love, not fear — and that lesson stuck.
I never got on that manhole cover again.
Oh, how I loved my grandma and granddaddy like no other.
And I still do. 💕
What is your, "I never did it again story?"