Wednesday, November 6, 2019
How Easy We Forget
There haven't been many serious spankings at Sam and Ella's house lately. I'm trying to think. It was so long ago, I don't even remember. So it had to be quite a while. If this has happened to you, you probably know how easy it is to get used to receiving only happy spankings or sexy spankings or I love you spankings. All of which are gladly accepted and appreciated.
Now you are probably thinking that I have been pretty much a perfect ttwd wife, and that is why the spankings have been light and funny, or hard and sexy, or sweet and romantic. I guess maybe I was pretty good, but I think part of it was that I didn't feel well for a long, long time. Sam took good care of me. Any spankings I received were really more like love taps on the derrière accompanied by some sweet talk from my guy.
But even when I finally started to feel better, I really was pretty much being a wonderful wife. I always greet Sam at the door with a kiss. (I have done this ever since Meredith wrote a post long ago about how she thought this was such an important thing to do. Lipstick too. She was right, damn straight! Perhaps she will repost it someday. But I digress.) I was eating healthy, thinking before I spoke, temper in check, and really listening when Sam was speaking.
When we got to our "weekend adjustment" (which others might call maintenance), instead of listing the things that needed improvement, Sam would list all the places where I was right on track. All the while smacking my bottom with his hand and just the right amount of sting. Don't you think that is just about heaven for a ttwd wife?
I think this lovely interlude went to my head. In fact, maybe I got a swelled head. Wasn't I the perfect little woman? Just go ahead and pin that blue ribbon on my chest. Mr. Paddle hadn't made an appearance in months. Some of the implements actually needed dusting. I started planning where I would put all my ttwd trophies since I certainly deserved some. And I started to think about my acceptance speech at the TTWD Oscar Ceremony.
"I'd like to thank PK and Sunny for all their wonderful and inspiring books. Such a good example. I'd like to thank Meredith for being such a devoted mentor. I wouldn't be standing here today without her insight and guidance. And, most of all, I'd like to thank every one of my readers for their helpful and heartfelt comments. Finally I would turn to Sam with love in my eyes and....."
I think that's about enough, don't you? There's a powerful "barf factor" creeping in here, and I don't want to do that to you, my friends.
Let's get back to the story of the perfect Ella and how it all fell apart. First of all I started sneaking candy (mostly Whoppers) into the house. For those international readers, "Whoppers" are chocolate covered malted milk balls. I SO love letting them melt in my mouth. I wasn't gaining weight for a while so I rather got into the bad habit of eating some every night. Then I started eating more of them every night. Then I bought Cadbury's Halloween Creme Eggs. They are the same as their Easter eggs except they have a green gooey filling. And they are "monstrously" good. Then I bought Tootsie Roll Midgees and hid them in the pantry.
I was sinking fast and up two pounds on the scale. Should have known this was a slippery slope, but I was in denial. I deserved these treats, after all. Wasn't I doing so well in Sam's eyes?
We had trick or treaters on Halloween night, and Sam had such a good time handing out candy. He loves to load them down with sweets. But then he realized that he hadn't bought enough this year, as last year we only had about 4 kids. I rushed to the rescue with my bag of Tootsie Rolls. Sam did not ask me where they came from, and I did not offer any explanation. I guess they were just placed there behind the soup cans in the pantry by the Halloween Fairy, who, by the way, is big and green and hairy with no wings.
So once the trick or treaters were done and the porch light turned off, I retrieved my bag of Tootsie Roll Midgees from the front entry. There was something ghoulish on the TV, and Sam was busy on the computer in his office. Considering how careful I was to hide them in the beginning, I was not careful at all eating them in the living room. Suddenly Sam was standing in the doorway with his eyebrows furrowed. Then he came in and looked at the pile of empty wrappers. It was substantial. I could tell you a fib that I only ate about 10 of them. They are so small, after all. But the truth is there had to be more like 30 or 40 wrappers, and it was a ponderous pile of evidence.
"What the hell are you doing, Ella? Give me the rest of that candy."
For those of you that do not know my diet history, I willingly put my husband in charge of keeping me on the straight and narrow. My weight had gone gone up and down my entire life until 5 years ago when we agreed to make it part of our ttwd life. Everyone at Weight Watchers thinks I am an amazing woman. It's such a sham, but I can't really explain to them how Sam is my "diet coach" and enforcer.
Anyway he headed back to his office while I picked up all the wrappers. I placed them beneath some other trash so they wouldn't be right on top. The damage was done, however.
Sam called out to me, "If you have any other candy hidden, I want you to get it right now."
I could have tried to act hurt that he would think such a thing about me, but I didn't think it was the right time. I went and got the carton of Whoppers that was behind the cereal and handed them over.
"We will talk about this Saturday morning," he said and I kind of knew that I wasn't going to need that acceptance speech.
Then to make things even worse, I effed up again on Friday night. We met my brother for dinner as my sweet SIL was out of town. He was bemoaning the fact that Halloween wasn't like the good old days when you would have at least a hundred kids coming to the door, and he asked Sam how many trick or treaters we had the night before.
Sam answered, "I don't know. Probably about 12."
Without missing a beat, I piped up, "No, it was 16."
It was like there was no one else at the table. Sam took my hand, and said pointedly, "What did we say about correcting each other when it doesn't make any difference? Hmmmm?" My brother didn't seem to notice a thing.
Saturday morning dawned, and I was up way before Sam, showered and dressed. I also checked the scale and groaned. I had planned to weigh-in at Weight Watchers, but that wasn't happening. I am Lifetime, so I just have to weigh-in once a month. Even when Sam got up, I kept busy doing laundry and a little cleaning.
Never ask for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
Loosely translated by Ella from John Donne's famous poem.
Sam took my hand, and walked me to the bedroom. There wasn't any light or playful mood, and he went into the "used to be a sweater drawer" and plucked out Mr. Paddle. Then I was OTKOTB. This means that Sam sits on the bed with one knee up on the bed and one foot still on the floor. It's a very tall antique bed. Then he pulls me over his knee. So over the knee, over the bed.
While he paddled, he kept up a running commentary on why I was in the position I was in. As if I didn't know. It hurt like hell because I was way out of practice, but I didn't wuss out. I knew I had screwed up. Besides, maybe it would spank away all those Tootsie Rolls and Whoppers that ended up on my ass.
Oh, How the Mighty Have Fallen -
And all of you friends and readers out there, can relax. You don't have to worry about what to wear to my awards ceremony.