The Devil Carries A Wooden Spoon

So, maybe I mentioned I have a slight addiction. Actually, what I really have is a hardcore, ridiculous, obsessively addictive personality. Whatever I’m into at the moment, I’m *into*. If I love cream cheese icing—I’ve probably got six cans of it in the fridge. When ‘Bones’ pops up with a new season on Netflix—count me out of reality for a good two days.

Even with work—when I go on a good streak, I may work seventy hours plus school. I just get really focused on whatever it is that I’m doing.

The problem? Well, my HOH just doesn’t like addictions. Of any kind. For any reason. And, more importantly, when he takes something(like blogs, for, *ahem*, a hypothetical example?) away as punishment for something else, he REALLY dislikes the addiction that leads me to sneak and read them anyway.

Not sure why I bother to sneak, since I always confess…but, beside the point.

The point is I was feeling a little, well, stubborn. So, I read the blog.

And, I got spanked.

And, it sucked. But, if anyone has heard of those silent spankings? You know, that awful, dreadful, should be BANNED cream? Yeah, the idea was if that goes *first*, I’ll really get the picture. Since this is oh…the sixth or seventh time we’ve had this particular “discussion”...

The only thing? That cream turns on the heat—and off the sting. So, stubborn ol’ me, basically, faked him out. And, since we’re still new to this, and it was late, he didn’t notice right off. Till the next morning. Till today.

Then, he noticed.

“Babe? Were you not done? Because you don’t feel done to me..”

Why does he always ask that? I was DONE before I got the first swat! UGH!

“Of course I’m done.” Cue innocent smile, averted gaze, and angel halo here.

“I don’t think you are.”

“I think you’re crazy. I’m definitely done.” Liar, me.

So, out came the King of Sting. And, let me just tell you, I’m done now. OUCH! I hate the wooden spoon. I hate it. And I hate worse that I deserved it. How hard is it to go ten days without reading some blogs, after all? (....) 

I promised I’d be good for the rest of my whole life.

I think I’ll shoot for a few days. 

:)