Kid gets on facebook.

Girl poses like she’s Kim K. Hips out, head back… or maybe she’s twerking. And she’s just a girl, not a young looking grownup with daddy issues, but a girl.

Or, little dude posts pictures of himself throwing up gang signs and holding up a six inch thick stack of wrinkled one dollar bills. In other words, this young man in a hundred-aire and he don’t care who knows it.

Or he takes a swing at his mom. Or she dry humps some kid out by the bleachers. Or they all get together and do all of the above in one gloriously horrible kid on youtube trifecta. But there’s going to be repercussions.

We’ve all shaken our heads at those photos and videos. Some of you might have shared them. They are unequivocal proof that our country is sliding towards Babylon.

But what about their parents? What do they do?

If you are old enough to know how to write an If-Then statement in Basic, then you might go into technological lockdown. Ditch the wifi, put that cell phone into a lockbox and take an icepick to the webcam. After all, we know what it’s like to live in the pre-wifi wilderness.

Or you say, “Go get the belt…”

Some parents, however, are fighting fire with fire. Girl wants to shake her ass on youtube? Here is that same girl getting her ass whupped on Youtube. Boy is an Instagram bad-ass? Here’s boy getting beat down by his daddy on Instragram. That will learn him, right?

Okay. I can’t even joke about this one. It’s pure abuse.

Somewhere, on someone’s feed, there is a picture of a kid who looks like he fought Mike Tyson. I mistook it for a photo of police brutality, until I read the caption. He disrespected his mother. His father did what Bill Cosby only joked about, and damn near took that kid out… and then he posted a picture of it.

There’s also a video of two girls being whipped by their father for twerking. They are skinny little things who have no business moving their little bony behinds on any kind of camera, much less posting it on Facebook. And they are screamers. They sound like little pigs being branded with coat hangers. The dad, on the other hand, is the picture of ideal whipping form. His wiry frame cocks back like the little figure on every pair of Jordans. Yes, he’s the MVP of ass-whuppings.

I don’t know what I would have done if I found out my little girls were twerking on facebook. Or if I found stepson had posted a picture of himself holding six rolls of quarters and throwing up gang signs. I know that I would have felt hopeless. Disillusioned and desperate. And I know I would have wanted to go get the belt. I wouldn’t have, but I’d be lying if I said that it would never cross my mind.

Either way, I don’t judge him for the whipping. I do, however, question the wisdom of posting it. I mean, before there was only a video of his little angels shaking their bony hips to 2 Chainzs or who-the-fuck ever. That is still out there. Those things never really disappear. But now there is also a picture of them both dancing at the end of an extension chord while daddy does his best Indiana Jones on their asses. Will they think twice before they get the twerking itch? You bet. He whipped them so fiercely that their hips might not even be about to do those things anymore.
But just because they aren’t posting on facebook, doesn’t mean that they aren’t finding other ways to exercise questionable judgement. Anyone who has ever watched Maury Povitch knows that a tweenaged girl who wants to fuck up, will find a way. And just because there is no video evidence of them running their lives into the figurative ditch, doesn’t mean that its not happening.
Those girls need more than a belt of an extension cord. I don’t know what… but they’ve probably needed it for a very long time. This isn’t their first ass whupping. It’s not the first time their father has exploded on them. I’m not saying he is a bad father – he clearly cares – but the beatings aren’t working. Time to dig another tool out of that disciplinary tool box.

It should come as no surprise that the police came and picked him up. Comedians talk about that too. “Let them come… I’ll give them the address…” said one comedian whose name, gender and distinguishing features I totally forget. That’s all good until the police are at your door with enough evidence for you to go to jail for a year or two. Evidence that you gave them, the moment you uploaded. It’s rule number two why you don’t upload pictures of yourself, dishing out corporal justice. Cops.

But why would you want to? What’s in it for you? Is it really just the idea that the public shame of a beating gone viral will keep your child on the straight and narrow? Or, maybe you want your piece of fame, too.

When I was young you could outgrow your mistakes. Move away from them… and one day people would forget. Now they stay around forever and ever. Waiting for the next google search to jump out and pounce.

Best case scenario, the girl passes through that butt poking out trying to look like she sexy, phase. She is accepted at a respectable liberal arts college and then goes for an interview at an IT company in Silicon Valley. Which, by the way, is her dream job. And when she gets there, the human resources guy is looking at her 13 year old self twerking on a playground that was paved over years ago and replaced with high-end condominiums. And her 13 1/2 year old self trying to crawl up behind a speaker because daddy is beating the hell out of her.

Yeah, these kids need to think twice about what they are uploading. And so do these dads.