Paying Attention To “Difficult” Women
The 5.19.04 post on The Collar Purple puts me in mind of my morning today. Apparently there’s something in the spring air that makes the women-folk need some firm physical reassurance.
Bethie woke up this morning with enough time before work for a snuggle on the bed. I was already up and awake, but I cheerfully jumped on the bed and we were snuggling and planning the weekend. But somehow, she was just in a contrary mood. All in the most light-hearted way, she kept managing to contradict me for no good reason and brat me in other minor ways. Finally it came down to my smiling “Gee, you’re being difficult this morning” and her sassy “No I’m not!” with the invisible tounge-stuck-out-at-me. You know the one, where you can’t see it but you know she’s thinking it.
So I gave her a few hand swats and told her I’d deal with her this weekend, watching her reaction closely. There was time to give her a good spanking, but really, only just enough time — no extra. She seemed happy for me to let it slide, so I let it slide.
Someday, I’ll learn better.
Fast forward: She comes out of the bathroom all warm and moist and wrapped in a soggy towel. Me, in helpful mode: “Do you want me to give you a few nice red ovals with the bath brush to help you remember me at work today?” That got me some nice distracting kisses during which she artfully managed to drop her towel.
And it got her a few friendly slaps on her newly bared bottom, which she didn’t even pretend to mind. But I was not so distracted that I could not manage a teasing reminder. “You know you will still have to pay for being difficult this morning.” Mock outrage from her: “I wasn’t difficult!”
Ok, boys, it’s like this. They hate to ask, but after they swing the clue-by-four enough times, you really are supposed to step up to the plate and deliver the desired goods. So I bent her over the corner of the bed. “Don’t move!” And stepped into the bathroom to grab the pretty decorative bath brush that hangs on the wall in there — the one with the pretty bumble bee “stinger” artwork on it.
Came back, she’s still there. Two measured swings gave her a nice bright red oval on each cheek. She yipes and grabs. So very cute. It’s really quite impressive, the mark a well-swung bath brush makes on a bottom that’s still damp from the shower, skin still warm from the hot water and all the pores open.
I let her stand up, still clutching herself. Me: “That’s what happens when you get difficult.” Her: “I’m not being difficult!”
Sigh. Sometimes I’m just too easy to get along with. Bend her over again, two more swats. This time I try to see just how fast that old bath brush will move. Then I keep her bent over, while I ask: “Were you being difficult?”
Pause, small voice: “I guess I was being a little bit difficult.”
Peace at last, brothers, peace at last. And off she went to work, happy as a clam.
