Happy Mother’s Day

Danielle called me Thursday to wish me a Happy Mother’s Day. I thought she had some cognitive issues, but in keeping with her desire to wish me good cheer, I gently and with humor explained she was a bit early.

“It’s this weekend Honey …” I smiled when saying it.

“Oh” she giggles, “which day?” Ben asked the same question on Tuesday and, drum roll please, do did D! Although he denies it, I have a cashier for a witness. Except I was so embarrassed for me, I didn’t look up and couldn’t find her if I wanted to. I have no idea where these three have been since birth. Danielle’s oblivion was the final straw. I had chalked up the first two missing it because of the “why chromosome”. (I actually started to cry a bit. Remember, it’s been one hell of a week!)

After I had had that premature feeling of being settled with my brood last week, I was struck with a blow dart stuffed with the duel- action poison of Ben and Amber who decided to exercise their Olympic lack of judgement. A “fool” day of fun was shared when Amber should’ve been in school. Big brothers aren’t always so in-tune with reality, especially when their brain’s still has a long few years before it reaches its full potential.

So D and I got to handle all the facts, rumors and presumptions. Speak with the school, individual kids, and each other. We already were on shaky ground. So we kind of did the common-enemy bonding theme.

It helped us go from “being English” (politely low key communications, to having actual discussions. It was a chance to attempt my role. It was hard but it was important for Amber. During our discussion, between just the two of us, I lost my temper because he was being so soft on her I sprang on him. Fortunately, I backed down and he heard me. He said, “It’s obvious you need spanked!” then he and I got silent realizing how a few good opportunities had drifted away from us after the debacle. Again, I just let it hang.

I couldn’t make it better for him. I thought it best to let his discomfort guide him back into his role. And he’s found it. Again, there’s nothing like a common enemy to create strange bedfellows (or something like that). We did feel strange, we did jump on bed and we felt that familiar pull and are using it to build upon.

Meanwhile Amber is incommunicado and is doing weird stuff like giving us FaceTime and help and she and D threw around the baseball! It was like some Amish nightmare from Heaven! I’ll miss her when her electronics are returned. She’s been silly and cuddly and forced into being a kid who gives hope that she and Carrie can make sure Mother’s Day isn’t celebrated on a Thursday!!

Have a great day Mom’s who come in all packages: those who gave birth, those who want to, those who open their hearts to many, those who are moms to community projects that improve the lives of many, moms whose children are in the military, moms of disabled children, single moms, grandma/moms, and moms-in-law …. Today, it’s all about you!

When hurting each other hurts

I can only talk in generalities. But I promise to keep it very simple. We hit a wall that neither of us saw coming. We hit it from simultaneously. I thought something would be wonderful. D found it to be the opposite. It took us both down hard. We are trying to right ourselves. He feels bad for his reaction. I’m shaking off misery. There are reminders everywhere of what happened. I’ve actually thrown away some valuable things  just to get rid of the memory. That is foolish, but I just have to do it.  I don’t’ need to be thrown off guard while I process things. Sometimes controlling things can be healthy.

It feels like a mini train wreck. We’re both shaken up. We both feel vulnerable for ourselves and for each other. It was all very innocent. For me “it” was an adventure. After just writing the post about being together since I was 17 and he 18, writing as if there was a comfort level between us exceeding those of ancient fairy tales. Frankly, it is wild that this situation wouldn’t have come up. You can’t imagine the things that have surfaced and somehow this managed to slip through the talks of “Do you like sunshine? Me too!! Do you breathe oxygen? OMG! me too!!!”  In some ways it has come up. He’s said repeatedly, “We are very different people.”  Truer words were never spoken. Apparently sunshine gets too hot and holding your breathe builds lung capacity…. (?) Who knew? Sure as hell not me! But D thought I knew, so I guess it hurt him too.

He’s apologized because he hurt me. But it is sad because he didn’t mean to hurt me. It is thee last thing he wants to do. I’ve accepted his apology. He’s apologized each time he has an epiphany and I’m feeling so glad he understand on new levels. In the end I just want someone to understand me.

I used to rush through my hurt feelings in order to quickly get back to where I was most comfortable: being the submissive wife. I’m more confident since we began in ’09. I don’t have to rush through anything because I’m feeling anxiety about how we ‘have to stay the course’. I don’t feel  I must compromise myself. D certainly never wants me to do that. He wouldn’t do that. He takes care of himself. Now I am too. So that means that we won’t have that ‘quirky recovery, we’ve grown used to having.

I know we can weather this storm. But we are both hurt in our own ways, and none of it is superficial. It all runs way too deep. It will be awhile before we get to surface for air. Both our expectations were dashed. And it is hard as we wonder around trying to get back to the ‘us’ we were before this broke.

We try to talk about it. It’s still so hard. Last night he  crashed  early. Tonight, the same. I think that is hard on me too. Just before bedtime, I headed upstairs to grab something. I fully intended to rejoin him. Then it hit me all again. And even though he had apologized, I stayed upstairs, I just had less in me than I thought.

I hope that if we can find some temporary distraction, putting a little shared, safe space between us, we can come back little by little to help each other heal. I have to be forgiving. I have to make a cognitive decision to be submissive while we are working through this. I guess being emotionally distance can mask itself as submission. Maybe if we sway back and forth we can take a step or two and begin our dance again. I love to dance. D hates it.

Ok he’s rousing … I’m be wise to hit “publish”  Good night!

 

 

Anniversary Spanking

Within the last two weeks we celebrated our 31st Anniversary!! It still makes me happy thinking about it. D took me home from a party when I was in the 10th grade. I was in heaven that night. Being a good guy, but one who could get any girl he wanted, I wasn’t sure how it would go. I wanted him like a stalker!! (understand, I was a virgin who didn’t hesitate to be pulled to him, I had just turned 16. Sadly only ‘move’ was to flash his irresistible smile at me like a platinum sword, before telling me to have a goodnight. I was thinking, ‘I’m pretty sure I just had one’!

The funny thing he jokes about to the kids is that I was a stalker! When I found out that this really funny girl was his sister, I made sure she always had a ride home in my car. Not once did he ever appear in those hot basketball shorts, or shirtless waxing his car ….

But I refused to give up (between my ears). I did feel some self- declared liberty to begin saying hi in the hallway. In 8th period he and his über long term gf would lean against a wall. He was there to walk her to her class. I would serpentine to my classroom just to see that smile. His gf would truly glare at me. I was not going after him. He was way out of my league, a coveted senior!

He’d gone away to college, a geeky hallowed place where slide rules were treated like flasks at state colleges (always within reach). I was stuck in my senior year of HS.

Out of the blue he called ‘just to see how I was doing, taking a break studying for finals’. I almost dropped the ugly yellow phone that night. I do remember stretching the cord until it was almost straight. I wanted to completely step from my reality, into his. After all, this may be a one time experience. We talked for 45 minutes before he said I’d already drawn him 15 over his self-allotted 30 minute break.

I hung up in a haze trying to think how I could do something to entice him further. So I sent him his only Christmas card! He sent back a card with a couple ice skating. On the inside he thanked me. At the end, his last words were “Be Good!” sighs… I just took notice of that a few weeks ago when I pulled out our box of letters from that winter and spring. He knew me well!

There was a Sadie Hawkins Dance, I asked if he’d consider. Again, sooo out of my league, and while infatuated with him, I was still still doing my best to try to fall for another senior. I about fainted when he said ‘sure, but he thought we should go out on one date before a big dance’. He drive down, we saw the movie Coma. The dance fell through. He mentioned being glad; he preferred not to have to head back to the gym for a mirrored ball and nosey parents ‘chaperoning

But the letters poured in!! Prom came, I was still thinking there’s no way I want to torture him. He had his head and life miles away. My bf gave me a gentle shove. My nosey mother did ‘chaperone’!! And D unabashedly had his hands on my behind on several occasions. I was so embarrassed, my god, my mom was 20 feet away rearranging the brownies for the 50th time, acting like she wasn’t the Campbell’s soup Queen she strived to be. But D made it clear with his taking my hand off of his hand (which was on my behind) and placing my hand inside his jacket. Then he’d return to his Olympic efforts! This happened almost as often as the brownies got moved!

Just a few months later he asked me to marry him. It was a Friday night. Six days later we made a conjugal commitment to our marriage. It was a painfully long engagement.

But here we are. Last night as we drifted he asked if I wanted an Anniversary Spanking. This morning it was three decades on each side with a few “bonus rounds” (Mr Humor).

We had a great night at an intimate Italian Restaurant and of course made another conjugal commitment to the rest of our lives. The 2 3/4 years of Dd have given our already solid relationship, more rocket-fuel power than anything I could have dreamed possible!

THIS is what I’m allowed to Control

D discussed how I eat food. He did it justice. I am a quiet, slow appreciator, lingering on the smells and visuals. I take time to taste it and Sunday I actually picked up a small piece of uncut steak because when you touch your food, it adds even more to the experience.

D made my food eating habits sound sensual. And that is the way I feel about it, when time allows. I was amazed at how he knew what I felt. Then he said, with all the subtlety of a record scratching everything to a halt, “But that’s you, that’s NOT me. We are different.

You don’t control me, you control you. That’s your job. When you try to control me, you regret it. You get angry, because I won’t let you. I don’t control you. You can’t control me. Control what you can and know your role.”

The above quote is verbatim. I have a freakish Rainman memory when I have emotions that are in tandem with an event. It was very sobering, very thought provoking and it left me speechless for more than a few minutes.

I’m exhausted, no energy whatsoever to edit. I really hope this makes decent sense. The concept is frighteningly simple. Maybe that’s part of why I missed it. Control judt me! Who knew?

Submissiveness: Absence and Renewal

Our time today has been moved to tomorrow morning due to extenuating circumstances.

Ok… So D is figuring out how to deal with the concept of  being vigilant regarding my self improvements, and of course meeting my needs when it comes to my wanting punishment. The anticipation, delivery and  … ok I’m preaching to the choir. But the interesting thing for me is that he has these patterns developing. One of the things I’ve noticed is that he starts to be very vigilant by not letting me stray in the least. He seems to be listening and watching. It is as if he is developing a sixth sense of knowing just when I’m going to make a face, roll my eyes, glare a bit at the back of his head. I’m a rather passionate woman. And when I come up against some little frustration, it is not like me to just think, “oh well…” and keep moving. I have a bit of energy to burn off when I’m thwarted or chastised. I have learned to not do  many things since our Dd relationship. I don’t leave the room, sleep in the guest bedroom, stay on the couch, read into the night, yell, swear and yell, and post about him in a negative light, as I used to do when I was only about spanking as a physical entity (but secretly hoped for Dd).

So now that I’ve screwed the halo to my head…. Here’s what I do, do. If I feel irked over something small, I will do my best to say something under my breath that he can barely detect, when we are with someone else. The “something” that I utter is usually some sexually humorous. My goal is two fold. If I can make him laugh, then I have some power over him. The other goal is to fly  under the radar. This “power” I referred to in goal #1, is imagined of course. But  I had noticed in pre Dd days, that when I did make him laugh, laughing  would soften him a bit. I could then have a chance at getting my unwelcome point across. Now that Dd is well underway,  I know I’ve got next to nothing up my sleeve, because I am pretty naked to this man. And yet, Here I go:

D is a phenomenal cook. In fact I want to say “Chef” because he’s ruined all of us for going out to eat – even at the finest restaurants – consider it a Curse of the Cuisine King. (See Susie, alliteration whore!) Bananas Foster from New Orleans is my fav dessert. Tonight it was spectacular. He makes it, then eats pretty fast. I, on the other hand, only step foot in the kitchen for reheating his leftovers – but  I relish every bite (almost as if I’m having my last supper  and my life will end when I’ve  finished). I was trying to explain to him that he was eating wrong (ok as I”m writing I can see what a nut I am). I wanted to (control him in his every moment) have him slow down, enjoy his food. He of course wanted me to leave him alone. As I’m distracting him from his enjoyment of his dessert, he is looking at me and some of the syrup fell from his spoon onto his shirt. I was  well underway with his (ignored) “back off KayLynn” warnings. But I had to go for the big guns, as he had put me in my place too easily, or maybe I had not taken my place at all.

I had to go for a full-blown immature defense. As he’s scraping off the syrup from his new T shirt and I say,  ”So…. do you want me to suck off your (purposed pause)……… syrup from your shirt?” He looks at me with that killing power that Dd husband’s looks possess and said, “BE GOOD!!”. Amber looks over and says in her stupid white-suburban gangsta talk, “Ooooh Momma, guess you just got served!!”.  So, great, Now what have I got left but my mouth to “win”?

“So… if you want I can suck

*****************************************************************

I return to this post with a major attack of conscience. I was so excited to write more. I pushed to end my thoughts/writing at a place I could easily pick back up after being ‘interrupted’. And I swear the end of the unfinished sentence isn’t anything much more awful than the first one I had said to him. I was cut off from finishing that sentence after 3 nice warnings regarding  how it was getting late. He told me that I needed to “wrap it up”. I swear, just before I die, If I go first, D’s going to be there saying during my last moments of life, “Baby… I’m sorry, but it’s time to wrap it up.” I guess if I was more aware, more respectful, his last sentence could be different.

Thankfully between being stopped and finishing, I  was grabbed in the  shower with a major attack of  guilt. I thought to myself, ‘are you really going to finish the end of that sentence?’. Is that really what you want to ‘put out there’ as a representation of yourself? And OMG how did I ever say that to D when Amber was in proximity?!!! (She had her iPod in her ears and I could hear her music, but still… I am losing it. He had rightfully warned me to stop myself. Just like last week (I am struck to recall as I write) when I was in the car pushing him.

Why can’t I get it right? I hate that I’m not, at my very core, this elegant woman who presents herself with her best foot forward. Instead there lurks this woman who wants to tell her husband how to eat slowly so that he can enjoy it more??? There is not a sigh deep enough that will help me release how I feel. Have I become one of those people? I hate women who do that in front of others and  here I was, doing it in front of his daughter and then, covering up my stupidity by playing him with sexual humor to regain, my perceived,  lost control.

You know, sometimes I want to just end this blog and start another out of shear embarrassment. That theme of ‘it will be different’ ‘I will be different’ seduces me. Though I should not beat myself up, there are times when I realize I am doing exactly what I feel is so wrong. IOW, I am not giving him the respect he is due. sighs, sighs, and more sighs…. tomorrow morning before he goes to work, will be our ttwd time. I am happy I was able to think through things here. I hate being dense when he needs to know I’m smarter than I acted.

I’m grateful to anyone who made it to the bottom of this page. I hope that my stupidity, honesty, and desire to be  a renewed submissive wife will be of benefit. And then there’s a part of me that hopes I will backspace the words… words spoken, words written.

We will share a few quick words before he goes into work tomorrow. I’m grateful that I will be talking truth and that D can begin his week knowing that I am fully supporting him.  (There is no time to go back to edit. I’ve three more minutes to hit publish and turn out the lights. He can sense when the writing is worth letting me stay up 15 extra minutes. With two left, I say goodnight.

Gilded Life

We are late to decisions. D’s life is steroidally stressed. Lately he’s managed to adapt the attitude of “they can’t fire me, but I wish they would”. It may be fleeting, it may be the upcoming season of summer (associated with a sense of personal freedom – perhaps stemming from his school days). But I am happy he has time to come home early, shop for himself, and work with me on family projects.

Today, driving around on a freshly spanked behind, I thought (more than usual) about how great my life is. I feel this sense of being in some wonder- filled life. I think on all the great things happening. My very young adult children are carefully finding their paths.

Two of the three are shining and self-actualizing. The other adult child is moving closer toward confidence and self love. My caboose is, according to her sibs, on an very expected track of mid teen experimentation.

I’m a big believer in the theory of “let them figure it out”. I don’t hand out cigars, Scotch and hookers to lure them. I just send out signals. I have faith in them. Short leashes in parenting reflect anxiety. Anxiety promoted loss of confidence and leads to numbing – so, based on reports that she’s tried but rejecting sex, drugs, and rock and roll well … Ok, two outta three ain’t bad. I’m happy she’s seemingly level headed.

I wax poetic (and am preachy to the point of annoyance) because I feel some positives shifting within myself. I guess I have to bolster myself a bit as a mom, here, mostly anonymously. People haven’t been supportive StepF&@$? Up wife like. My son’s very financially successful. I never share that face to face. When asked his career, I share and, no kidding, people pat my hand with head-tipping puppy dog direct-eye contact and say “it’s ok; its just a phase” and “well … they have to find themselves before they decide what they’re going to do when they grow up” and, wait, I almost blocked out the winner, “I’m so sorry”. I do learn a lot about people when this happens. But it’s all stuff I didn’t want to know! Lol

Sentence: Suffer the Pink Cushion ;)

Thirty minutes ago I woke to this:

“Okay, roll over!”

“KayLynn do you have any fictional words to confuse the courts regarding your intent to create and perpetrate crimes against mankind, as in me?

You will note that the answer is “No”!”

“I maintain my innocence!” I spoke in mumbled tones with attempts at giggling.

“The court does not recognize that statement.”

“So you admit you have nothing to add before your sentencing?”

“I never intended to deviate, congregate and conjugate” At this point, through my sleepy head, I dredged up any words ending in ‘ate’. It made me sound important.

“I hereby sentence you to: # by hand, # by the leather paddle, and # with the hickory butter paddle. Hmmm ‘butt her paddle’. It’s a little backwards don’t you think?” My head had no caffeine to start hearing from right to left!

When we got to the end of the leather paddle, I was squirming like mad. Whenever I’m not holding my position, he’ll balance the next item on my lower back. Message Received.

He asked if I had any doc appointments that would expose the already pink part of me today. I wanted to say “Yes, all of them!” But I’m getting my car worked on; somehow, it sounded wrong, even if I had joked …. Ahhh, Jiminy Cricket, he does make occasional appearances on my shoulder.

Being the big spoon, he asked, “Have you been sufficiently manhandled this morning?” He sarcastically repeated ‘manhandled’. “There’s no word ‘woman-handled’.” Not in this house anyway. I can barely handle me these days.

D dressed for work. He just bought some new pants and shirts. He looked so good I wanted to go to and watch him at his work today.

I have to jump up, head to the car shop, while I am there I’ll add to my already frayed scroll, more jobs. Then Head to my next appointment (sans speeding). Then run home to get some work done as I sit on my “pink cushion of calmness”.

Flashing your Innocence

So I’m reclining in a chair this afternoon in a desolate furniture store, when D walks up to me, unbuttons a few buttons, opens his fly and hovers over my face with direct intent!! I cocked (!) an eye open & I laughed so hard, I embarrassed myself. Eventually a brave & savvy saleswoman appeared about 3-5 minutes later. “Let them stay giddy, it’s bound to be ‘purchaser’s-lube she thought’! And so it was!

The chair I reclined in (we bought two!) was soooo comfy that I must’ve (unbeknownst to me) had some male-only-known look on my innocent face which screamed out to him, “while she’s relaxed, just slip it in there. Button Flys are stealth. – Go for It!!”

D’s a pretty sedate guy. I’m the happy clown, mostly wit, occasional 3 stooges. But D, he’s stellar at antics. Funny how his physical humor always involves some purposed & personalized penile pleasure in public settings.

Last month I dared to joke about Mom’s gone wild on spring break & I did the “show your … ” I did the Mardi Gras chant without the last word. We were in the same room together. I figured he minimally evidence a barely detectable upward turn of a corner of his mouth. But nooo! We were in the same room. Because he had the chance to exert control, he punches it into 6th gear! Really??!!

It makes no sense! Whenever he’s outside washing his car, mowing the lawn, I’m all about doing something brash to jerk him from “wax on, wax off”. Sometimes I swear he’s thinking, as he’s mowing: “can I make believable crop circles in just one acre? And if I did, would that yet discovered tabloid, “OMG, WTG?!” pay me for my story?” Once again, he needs some redirection.

Those are the moments when wives have to jolt them from their mental man caves, pull them back from pimping-the-stroller moments with “flashing” them a little reality.

D was trying to do something gratuitous in the furniture store. When I do something similar, say, flashing him from the picture window, it’s for his own good, not mine. One could go so far as to say: I’m sacrificing my perceived innocence (did you just hear that? … It was the sound of a halo settling itself upon my innocent head… But … If we are within close proximity, he’s the HOH. If he’s distanced from me physically, I’m his turn on …

Is anyone else aware of these gender gymnastics?!!’

Riddle me This Spanker??

Wednesday night, the finger biting night, was brought to justice Thursday morning. It was an instance of him revving himself back up to tighten up reigns he’d let drape way too loosely, despite my respectful straight talk. He said it was bc of my recent surgery. I’m sure that was a part of it. Well he got over it. It worked out. The cane stayed in its decorative vase, awaiting its turn someday, like those freaky robot stuffed animals in ‘Tot Story’. I was very very happy he used discernment, given how much I struggled with him bc he kept blowing me off. And I kept trying in vain to get him to understand my pov.

I had to go pretty far to say, “If you were a no show for a meeting, you’d called, with just one staff member, you would handle it w direct communication afterward … right?”

It was then he agreed with the point I had struggled to make. It took more than a few times.

He’s said repeatedly, ‘but You know how I feel, that should be enough’ – regarding these types of (seemingly) complex issues/communications. He is fantastic about saying he loves me, and all those other things that make my heart soar. In fact, he has been more communicative with positives since Dd began.

I am needing some feedback. Do other men find it tough to admit their mistakes? Even to themselves? I feel I have to work so hard sometimes to get him on the same page. Does he think she’s a patient woman or this is all in her head? Is it hard for guys to put themselves in someone else’s situation? Do guys just gloss over things because they don’t want attention drawn to their (theoretical) short comings? Or does he not take me seriously when I say, “I’ve got 7 shows a night playing different venues in my head, you’ve got to do a spankercism at least two times-ish a week!” …?

As much as things are wonderful, we each have some dance of “she can wait ’til I’m ready” (which may a DNA fear of “I won’t be manipulated”) and my personal flip out of “he’s forgotten me” (I have little value).

All rhetorical, but needed to be written. Maybe somebody else goes through it too ….

Sunday was my first ever bday spanking!! I won’t complain about having to wait for it, but I did ask for it with a bit of whining.

So D never witnessed one, or he’s making up his own rules. He declared that you get as many swats, as you are years old per cheek!! What?!! The man’s voluntarily on an island, I swear! Anyhow, it was “Ladies Choice”. I requested the Leatherthorn and just a few with the hickory paddle.

He decided (which, surprisingly is new to us) to put me over his knee, which felt so natural (!!) and began with his hand. (He had tried using his hand once about three years ago and complained his hand hurt. As he refuses any learning opportunities online, it lays, it stays I had no clue what was happening back there. It’s not my job to find out. Well ancient man-memories aligned and I was so confused as to what he was using on me! I was shocked at how heavy, stingy, and the jolt of my body. I was happy it was a celebratory occasion!

Once we had gotten to (in my head “and one to grow on”) I began to object, set him straight, get him to stop. He did what any HOH would and asked if I was really in a “position” to question him (god they just love that line, don’t they?!

Oh Great! I Got a Counter!

Because I had used my voice and we were caught up in one of those quagmires. Each of us stubborn, me justifiably. No doubt he’s locked down that part of the city for himself. So I start to do some of the old stuff pre Dd. I keep a simplex argument going until he’s just to sane to finish and I want to start chanting: “In your face…. ” because I’m a. a jerk, b. immature, c. looking for any outlet to expel my pent-up anger or d. the first three letters of the alphabet! This particular ‘discussion’ for the deranged had to do with the listening to music in the car. Here’s the good one, We were driving four whole miles. But I guess we both needed to argue. I think that sometimes we just do that. It’s a way to (in the end) achieve our roles. I push, he warns, I soar with glee as my audience of one, Amber, winks at me. I’m all about setting up the example of : Do as Daddy says, not as Mommy does. I pushed so hard that D ended up pointing his finger at me. I took the opportunity to take his hand and put that finger into my mouth for a bite. Not a hard one, but it was by all definition a bite. Pulling his finger away, he said, “That will cost you” in that too calm voice. At that point I’m so fool of myself I’m going for it. In days past I’d have said, “Bring it on Buddy!” I only don’t remember what my next reaction was, but it was not anything that helped me out.

We got to the restaurant and everything was “restored” in that, the only bites I took were of food. That night we enjoyed sex. In a way it was part of our ritual. He was undeniably dominant. Amber and her buddy were up and down our stairs gathering teen vitamins. You know, food that comes in a puffy bag. I had to be very quiet. I didn’t make it a few times. His message was clear. I knew he wasn’t going to let me go any longer. He saw me unraveling in that disguised way of pushing him hard when we are clothed.

The next morning he woke early. Amber and her buddy were off miraculously. D came over to the bed as he always does and said, “Roll over. You get 50 for being disrespectful last night. And you owe me 50 more from ….”  I kind of blanked out. I knew he was headed to the drawer with the hickory paddle.  How I was going to take 50 with that thing was mind-boggling. The first bit of it was just so he could talk to me about what had transpired. After that he started to actually count. I did my very best to just stay there thinking “You knew this would happen….”

Within the next 24 hours I’ll  be paying up on the other 50. I’ve never counted. When I’m doing reps in the gym, I just keep going. I don’t like numbers. D is the numbers guy, so Dd makes sense to him now. He’ll count, I’ll cringe and hopefully keep my closed.