I think my post My husband spanked me! got more hits than all of my other blog posts combined. I get it. I like to read about people’s personal journeys too, so I thought I would share something that happened today.
My weakness is Trader Joe’s cookie butter. It tastes like gingerbread cookies and is seriously to die for. I rarely buy it because I don’t seem capable of restraint when it comes to making it last more than a week. Well, the other day at the grocery store, I caved and bought it. When I got home, I retrieved a spoon and proceeded to eat it straight from the jar. My husband convinced me to put it away after a minute. He gets annoyed because I rarely buy anything sweet from the store, but when I do, I eat it before he can have any.
So today I get home from work, have dinner alone, and then decide I’d like a little cookie butter for dessert. Imagine my distress when I don’t find it in the cupboard. I know right away that my husband has hidden it from me because he did this once before with the Nutella. Jerk.
I start hunting it down like a jonesing junkie. I’m prepared to tear the flippin’ house apart. Luckily, we live in a very tiny house and it only takes me about five minutes to find. Where do I find it? Up on the top of the highest bookshelf, among some of his Star Wars crap…err, paraphernalia.
I am laughing with glee, both because I think his hiding spot is really amusing and because I have located the deliciousness that is cookie butter! I place a chair next to the bookcase and snap a picture. I text it to my husband with the caption “Guess what I’m about to get?”
I rescue the cookie butter from Darth Vader and the Storm Troopers, settle on the sofa with it and a spoon, and turn on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. This is my heaven. Forget angels and harps. Give me cookie butter and reality TV. As I’m licking my first spoonful clean, my phone beeps. A text.
“About to get a good spanking that’s what.”
I burst out laughing. He’s catching on pretty fast to my whole spanking kink. In fact, he doesn’t seem to have any qualms about wailing on my butt long and hard. It surprises me. I thought he would be worried about hurting me and be all weak sauce. That’s what I heard from other wives who introduced this to their husbands. Their husbands treated them like breakable china in the beginning. I am not so lucky. (Or maybe I am, really.)
I decide not to have another spoonful of cookie butter. I shouldn’t anyway. It’s unhealthy and I’d like to think I have a modicum of self-control. I should at least spread it on toast if I’m going to eat it, right? I place the jar back by the four-legged combat vehicle and return the chair to the kitchen. I write another text along with the most adorable emoticon I can find. “I put it back! No spanking necessary.” If he notices that any is gone, I will tell him it’s hardly my fault. It was beckoning me from the dark side of the Force and he should consider hiding it somewhere else next time.