Eric is coming home tonight and I'm feeling sexually starved and playfully bratty.
What a lovely combination.
On our last call, he threatened a spanking to any girl who dared to throw his pillows on the floor. Determined not to risk being anything other than his perfect angel,
I've hidden every single pillow in the house - including the two from the couch.
"But darling, I didn't want to risk a pillow being thrown!"
Eric was annoyed at the hotel because he ended up with a rather dry sandwich and no ketchup, mustard, mayo or salsa in the place. My man is the condiment King and I listened to him gripe about that sandwich for days. Last night, the condiment fairy filled the top two shelves of our refrigerator with every sauce known to man. There is caramel, honey, hot fudge, chocolate, three types of mustard, BBQ sauces, salsas, relishes, gravy, dressing - oh the list goes on!
"But sweetheart, I'd hate for you to ever have to eat another dry sandwich again!"
I can hear him now. "Amy Lynn! Upstairs this instant." We'll make our way to the spanking chair where I'll receive a classic strip down and warm up with his hand. Then he'll take the key to the toy box and throw it open to release his favorite leather strap but the inside is sparkly clean and empty.
"But honey, you told me to clean up our toy box and I promised you wouldn't come home to a mess!"
At some point, when it's time for the great reveal, I'll show my love that the tool shed he
ordered came a week early and is already constructed behind the house.
Maybe he should have bought a bigger one. There is hardly any room left after I
stocked it with pillows, implements, toys and a mini-frig full of our food.