Saturday, September 30, 2017

"Amy Lynn! You little thief!"

I admit it.  I was quite proud of the fact that I "lifted" a great Meme from Jz, who had taken it (with permission) from Olivia.  It was fun and the more bloggers who jumped on board and joined our band of thieves, the happier I felt.  Why, I loved having partners in crime and I wasn't afraid to say it, even brag about it to Eric, who was being rather silly between layovers.

"Amy Lynn!  You little thief!" he chided.  "What if the other HOH's find out you are the one who instigated this robbery and led their wives into a life of law breaking tendencies?!"

"Is stealing a Meme really breaking the law?" I asked.

"Aaaaamy!" Eric used the long version of my vowel in his warning against the mouthy questioning of authority.

"Show me the penal code," I demanded.

Eric responded, with a laugh, "You said penal."

Oh brother.  Once a man, always a man.

We bantered back and forth about twenty minutes more and then his flight was called.

"I've got to go," he said hurriedly and I pictured him gathering up his coffee cup, laptop case, roller bag, newspaper, and phone; reluctant to end the call but needing to slip back into work mode.

"You tell your fellow thieves that when I get home," Eric threatened in a most delicious tone of voice, "Ms. Amy Lynn is going to get her ass reddened, ten swats for each partner in crime."

So dear blog friends, allow me to THANK YOU all for playing along, as I now certainly have something to look forward to upon Eric's return.  Oh, and for those of you who have slipped "into a life of law breaking tendencies", my bad! Please accept my apologies.


Friday, September 29, 2017

Ten days too fast

Eric is packing for another long trip.

Image result for suitcase clipart

There is a very lucky airplane carrying my husband away tomorrow morning.

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I want to pout and throw a fit but we've had such a good time, I really can't be bad right now.

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Lucky for me, badness is not the only indication that this girl is going over Eric's knee.

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It's looking like one of these nights:

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Good night friends.

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Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Stolen: Meme Time, Meme Place

Meme Time, Meme Place

Stole this from Jz, who totally hijacked it from Olivia, who said it was okay for Jz but I didn't bother asking anyone.

Marriages – 2
Proposals – 2 (I can't say no)
Divorces – 1
Surgeries – A couple
Tattoos – Temporary
Piercings – Six


Shot a gun – Not ever

Quit a job – Yes, one 

Been on TV – No royalty checks coming here 

Fallen in love – 3 times 

Driven cross country – Many, many, many times 

Hit a deer – No. That would be scary. 

Watched a birth – Yes! Not scary at all. 

Ridden in an ambulance – Twice

Sung karaoke – Nobody in the room would have called it singing. 

Ice skated – Does lying on ice while wearing skates count? Then, yes.

Been surfing – In the water and in the sheets....  ooooo baby! 

Seen the ocean – Every chance I get. 

Ridden a horse - Sometimes I call Eric, Horse. 

Almost died – The first time Eric threatened (offered) to spank me :P

Been punched – Unfortunately. 

Punched back – With a restraining order.

Are you:

In love now – Pretty much, head over heels, and over Eric's knee, in love

Heart Pictures Images - ClipArt Best


Saturday, September 23, 2017

ttwd freedom

I've spent quite a bit of time reflecting on Wednesday night.  Eric and I were finally back together, with ten days of normal ahead of us.  We each had expectations about how the reunion would go but then, the doorbell rang. (If you missed my last post, pop back here so you can catch up before moving forward.) The highly anticipated romantic evening became a full blown disciplinary session and somebody got sent to bed early. (Yes, me.  It wasn't him! LOL)

Pre-ttwd:  Eric would have heard the same story from our neighbor and would have had the same reaction, emotionally.  However, he would have had no place to put those feelings other than in a wad at the base of his gut.  He is not a yeller so it's not like he would have screamed at me.  He might have said some unkind words like, "How could you be so stupid?!" and then he would have walked out to calm down and get over it.  He'd stop talking to me for a few days and would ignore my pleas, texts, calls, etc.

Pre-ttwd: I would have been crushed that Eric called me stupid and then when he left, quit talking, and shut down, I would be devastated until the one, two, or three days passed and we finally spoke about it. I would feel terribly guilty for drinking while on my medication, would convince myself Eric was going to leave me or didn't love me anymore, and I'd be a basket case.

ttwd freedom: When emotions run high, people need to take action.  Eric took the emotions he would have bottled up in the past and very calmly let them go while dishing out a spanking, corner time, and early bedtime.  He made his point, got a physical release, and was able to end the "conversation" with a show of his love and affection for me.

I, on the other hand, got called on the carpet for not taking care of myself.  The actual spanking was NOT enjoyable but I got the point and even more so, understood where Eric was coming from. The aftermath was incredible.  Yes, lesson learned, but beyond that, I had no lingering guilt, never felt unloved or like I was stupid.  Instead, I realized very quickly that I made a mistake, I paid for it, I was worth taking the time to set straight, and I am loved. Then it was over. A thing of our past. Something that neither of us was holding onto anymore.

Some couples use domestic discipline as a way to control what one or the other partner does or doesn't do but for us, ttwd is not about control.  It's about freedom. Freedom to express our feelings. Freedom to let go of some emotions. Freedom to make mistakes and work through them quickly and efficiently.  It's an amazing feeling, being so close and having such freedom tying us together.


Thursday, September 21, 2017

"I'm going to spank you when I need to"

Eric came home and we hugged, kissed, laughed, talked, snuggled, giggled, pinched, poked, played, and flat out celebrated being back together after far too long. For ten whole days, we will have each other home, in a somewhat normal routine, smack dab in the middle of the busiest travel season of the year. It's a miracle.

Everything was fantastic and then the doorbell rang.

"Hi. You must be Eric," I heard our new neighbor's voice in the entryway. "I'm Veronica."

I came around the corner as Eric extended his hand in greeting.

"I hear you and Amy had a nice dinner last night," he said, one of the many stories I'd shared with him about my time while he was away.

The three of us chatted for a few minutes and then Veronica said, "I hate to interrupt the reunion but I wanted to give Amy her license back. I guess we mixed them up at the bar before dinner."

She turned toward me and said, "Please tell me you have mine."

I looked in my purse and sure enough, I had Veronica's license.  We both laughed.

"I still can't believe we got carded!" I exclaimed.

I walked Veronica down the path, thanking her for coming over, and then skipped back into the house ready to get back to the love fest. Eric was in the kitchen.

"Isn't she nice?!" I said happily.  "Finally someone on the block I can hang out with when you're gone all the time."

I bounced over to Eric and kissed his lips.  He was standing with his hands in his pockets and didn't move a muscle. Instead, he waited until I pulled away.

"Were you drinking last night?" he asked.

"I had a beer," I answered nonchalantly.

Eric's eyes narrowed and he took in a long slow breath.

"Amy, go get my belt."

His voice was stern and unwavering.

I stammered.

"Huh? What?"

"You heard me. Go upstairs and get my belt. And if you feel the need to argue, get Sir Strap while you're at it."

My heart rate drastically increased. My face went flush and I realized there was nothing about Eric's demeanor that suggested this was going to be either enjoyable or negotiable. Eric has never dictated what I could or could not do, what I could or could not drink.  This was new and completely unexpected, especially on his first night back.

I went to our room and pulled Eric's thick black leather weave belt from it's hook and walked down to the living room. Although we have technically been practicing ttwd for a couple of years, trust me when I say there have been very few disciplinary spankings with much more resets and erotic play. Clearly, this was not for play.

Eric took the belt from my hand and gestured toward the piano bench, which had been pulled out in the middle of the room.  There was a prescription bottle of pain pills in the center of the bench. Again, a hot flash spread like wildfire across my face as Eric bent me over, laying my hands flat at either side of the bottle.

"Read the label to me," he said sternly, doubling the belt over and folding it in half.

I picked up the bottle and read, "Do not drink alcoholic beverages when taking this medication."

Eric let my words sync in for a moment and then the belt flew through the air and landed squarely on my right cheek.

"Have you been taking your medicine, Amy?"

The question wasn't really a question because we both know perfectly well, I'm surviving on this stuff right now.

"Yes," I whispered, barely audible.

SMACK. The belt landed hard on the same spot for a second time.

"Yes, what?" Eric demanded.

I was still catching my breath, wanting to reach back and grab my throbbing cheek.  Eric was not acting in anger. He was controlled and calculating, but using far more force than ever before.

"Yes Sir," I squeaked and strike three erupted right across the middle of my seat.

"Read it again," Eric commanded and I did, again and again and again. The leather creased my jeans after each reading until I couldn't stand it any longer.

"I'm sorry," I yelled out, reaching back and squeezing the right side, which seemed to be getting the bulk of the whipping.

Eric put down the belt and sat in front of me. He undid my buckle, button, and zipper; pulling the protective denim and panties to just below my knees.

"Please," I begged rubbing the red welts on my aching bottom.  "No more, Eric.  I'm sorry.  I really am."

Without a word, Eric folded me across his knee and pinning my fingers to my lower back, began an intense hand spanking that had me yelping by the fourth strike.

"Do you have any idea what I would do if I lost you?!" he asked, spanking me harder and harder with each of his words.

Spank, spank, spank.

"I can't imagine my life without you and you know it's dangerous to mix drugs and alcohol."

Spank, spank, spank.

"It's right there on the damn label!"

Eric picked up the bottle of pills and threw it across the room.  It hit the wall, broke open, and pain pills spilled out all over the floor. Then the spanking continued.

Smack, smack, smack.

My ass was on fire and I was locked in position, unable to get out from under Eric's grasp. There was immense pain but truthfully, it was his words that had tears streaming down my face.

"I'm so sorry," I cried out, realizing the tighter Eric held me and the more diligently he spanked, how much I had truly scared him by carelessly drinking while taking those pills.  After everything we'd been through this summer, after everything we'd experienced with my kid, apparently I was the one who had learned nothing.

By the time Eric finished, I was sobbing and my body was shaking and weak.  He held me close to his chest and kissed my face, making me promise over and over that I would never exhibit such risky behavior again.  Then he took me to the corner by the front window and made me stand there, nose to the wall, about twenty minutes until dusk set in and the room darkened.

"It's not even eight o'clock, but you're going to bed," Eric said, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and kissing the salty tear stains away from my eyelids.  He held my face in his hands and repeated his words.  "You're going to bed right now, Amy Lynn, and you may not say another word until morning."

I started to sniffle, another wave of tears ready to flow down my cheeks, but Eric shook his head and pushed my body toward the stairs. In our room, I glanced at an array of red welted streaks in the mirror before tossing my clothes in the hamper and crawling into bed.  Crying silently, I waited until Eric joined me and then slowly, I melted into his arms.

"I love you, Amy Lynn," Eric said sweetly, placing two fingers on my lips as a reminder that I was forbidden to speak for the rest of the night. He spooned my body and held on tight.  "and because of that, I am going to spank you when I need to."


Monday, September 18, 2017

Thirty four hours and sixteen minutes

I'm singin'

And prancin'

There's dancin'

Gettin' to



Eric will be home in

34 hours and 16 minutes 





10 days of heavenly bliss.

Woo hoo!!!


Saturday, September 16, 2017

Your Side of the Bed

I slid over to your side of the bed
and wrapped my body around your pillow
a cool patch of sheet beneath my skin
cold and naked without you there

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Book? Paddle? Gift?

The spanking inventory seems to have aided in lifting my spirits.  I'm lighter today, even though Eric packed his bags once more and is traveling until next week.  Rather than sit at home pouting, I tried some good old fashioned shopping therapy and bought Remarkable Creatures to read while he is gone. Meredith had mentioned it in one of her posts. At the bookstore, I decided to surprise my husband and got him one of the latest John Grisham novels, a hefty hardback of 373 pages, to keep him entertained on the planes.

When Eric came home for lunch and to pick up his suitcase, I had the book wrapped in yesterdays newsprint with a heart shaped card cut out of red construction paper tucked inside the front cover. I wrote something corny about completing our inventory when I track down those three missing paddles and figured he'd use my note as a bookmark and a reminder to finish our task.

Eric is a squared away, solid, distinguished, intelligent businessman but put a present in front of him and the hands of time tick backwards at record speed. He's suddenly a child again.

"Can I open it now?" he beamed, eyes bright and sparkling.

I gave a nod but before I was even halfway through the motion, the paper was on the floor, the card had fallen out of the book and under the table, and Eric was leaning in for a kiss.

"Thank you Sweet Pea," he said, puckering up.  "You really shouldn't have."

I got on my hands and knees to retrieve his card but as I reached for it, Eric very sternly said, "Don't you move Amy Lynn."

My hand pulled back and I steadied myself as he raised my dress above my waist, exposing my panties.

"You - just - had - to - buy - the - hardback - didn't - you?" he asked, each word being accentuated with a loud hard smack from the book.  (Check it out next time you're in an airport, library, or bookstore.  That novel easily doubles as a full blown paddle!)

I lurched forward and grabbed the note when he finished and taking the book from his hands, placed my card back inside.

"Are you mad at me for real?" I asked, rubbing my right cheek, which seemed to have taken the bulk of the spanking.

Eric shook his head.

"Of course not," he answered.  "I love the gift."

Then he passionately kissed me and slapped my backside one last time, giving it a squeeze before pulling away.

"You do own a library card, though," he scolded, tucking the book in his bag.

We walked to the door and said our good-byes and though I was focused on the farewell, my mind was suddenly flooded with thoughts of PK's latest post, "Do you tell on yourself?".  I believed I always do, but for whatever reason I couldn't bring myself to mention the other book I'd bought.

Well, at least it was a paperback!


Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Spanking Inventory - Somewhat Complete

Jeans Bare
Crop 1 2
Bamboo 3 6
Tree Stick 6 8
Bullwhip n/a n/a
Sir Strap 7 10
School Stick 6 8
Eric's Fav Strap 4 6
Rope 1 4
Slotted Spoon 3 6
Heart Paddle 2 5

There you have it.  The results of our spanking inventory. Effectiveness scale 1-10, 10 being the worst. Wait, worst? Maybe, 10 being the "most" is more accurate. I mean, 10 left the biggest impression.

Anyway, let me start by saying, thank goodness I have a reasonable man in my life.  Eric had instructed me to get all of the implements we have out of our chest; which meant the vanilla imlements we routinely use were not part of the inventory. (Kitchen items, wire hanger, blind wand, cheese board, hairbrush, bath brush, his belt, etc.) 

We discovered by the bamboo stick that ten swats is not necessary in order to rate an implement. My darling Eric knocked the requirement down from ten to five.  First with jeans on, then again on the bare bottom. You will also notice, he skipped the bullwhip.  He's used that on me many, many times... but only to tie my hands. ;)

If you've been following along, it's been a really tough couple of months for both of us and for numerous reasons, spankings were either not possible or had too many extenuating circumstances coming into play to give them a shot.  I needed something, we both knew that.  We just weren't sure what I could take or how I would react to it.

The "inventory" reddened my ass for sure.  I got the sound of the smack, but not the lecture.  I got the pain, without the story line.  I got the heat, but it was more like test driving than practicing ttwd. That's not to say it wasn't a huge success. It was just more businesslike than personal  That in itself made it funny.

So, Eric and I laughed.  We laughed A LOT.  We both needed that as much or more than anything else and it felt good to take our little inventory, track our results, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Our night turned into stories, "Remember when we bought this? Remember when you did that? Remember how we went with one and then the other?"  After Sir Strap, I spent some time across his lap so he could rub out some of the pain in hopes of not tainting the results for the items that followed. It felt nice, being safely held over his knee.  Nothing went too far, nothing went rogue. It was all good.

When I crawled into bed, I realized how exhausted I was just from being tense for such a long time. The laughter and the closeness to Eric was by far more important than the spankings themselves and taking inventory was a beautiful way to ease back into where we left off.

Eric kissed me good night and said, "Maybe next week, when I get back from traveling, we can finish the inventory."

"What do you mean, finish?" I asked, thinking of all the household implements I managed to avoid because he stuck to the chest.

Eric grinned.  

"It seems someone hasn't been putting things away like she's supposed to."

I blushed.  Remember when we found Eric's favorite strap in a suitcase not so long ago?  Well apparently we're also missing a red acrylic paddle, a wooden paddle, and a leather paddle.  Where did those things go?!


Monday, September 11, 2017

Spanking Inventory

Eric read my last two posts; two I might add, I was tempted to delete.  They started a conversation. Good enough.

"Amy," Eric leaned in and kissed me on his way to the garage this morning. "We're going to be taking inventory tonight so be ready."

I assumed he meant at work.  I assumed he meant he'd be home later than usual.  I assumed "be ready" meant, "you're on your own again tonight".  I assumed wrong.

Eric continued.

"Tonight is not about discipline or playtime or a reset.  As my role as HOH, it is important to me that whatever spanking implement I use, in whatever situation, is appropriate.  Therefore, tonight we will be taking an inventory of every implement we own.  You will receive ten swats with your jeans on and ten swats on your bare bottom. You will rank each one by it's level of intensity so I can do a better job."

I stood speechless (a rare occurrence) while my mind surveyed the array of thoughts, emotions, and feelings I was suddenly experiencing.  It was obvious Eric understood my fear of trying ttwd to get me to a better place, with the threat of it not working, a disappointing blow I'm not sure I could handle.  "Inventory" is not personal.  There is no end game expectation beyond a count and ranking.

Emotionally, I need a good cry and spankings rarely bring me to tears but inventory? Might just be impersonal enough to take me to the edge and possibly over it.

And physically, I got that tingling feeling in my butt that happens whenever my husband utters the name, "Amy Lynn!" or says those words, "Upstairs young lady!".  Is it just me?  Do you get that break out of goose bumps on the back of your legs, that wet spot, the tingle, and a flock of butterflies in your stomach?  Inventory.  The feelings were all there.

This afternoon, I'll be carefully cleaning out our chest and lining each implement in a row on our kitchen counter.  The scale is one to ten; one being light and ten bringing immense pain.  I'm not frightened and I don't have an unrealistic list of expectations of what is to come.  After all, it's just inventory.


Sunday, September 10, 2017

Eric sees through me - it's not the TV

Hello Bloggers,

I apologize for the last post.  Life has dealt some serious blows recently and though I can find millions of people who are dealing with far worse situations than I am right now, I'm still stuck in this blue funk and my usual "pick me ups" have not been working.   I try to write lighthearted posts with fun pictures to feel less desperate and I throw out superficial pleas for attention in hopes that something will trigger that spark in me to come back to life without having to go down the path of anymore emotional pain.

Eric has done his best to be there for me throughout all of these things, that don't relate to him but obviously affect our relationship because when either of us is down, the other one steps up.  I got hit with a lot of life in a really short period of time and so did he.  It is all winding down now but much like the aftermath of these storms, there will be months and possibly years of recuperation.

Eric feels beat up mentally and physically at work right now and emotionally, I've been in hell and that weighs tremendously on him. The best thing I can do for him is be the optimistic, fun, playful, sexy, silly girl he fell in love with.  Having a hard time finding her, though I'm convinced she's buried inside me somewhere.

I am beat down mentally and emotionally.  I'd like to say I'm fine physically but that's not really the case either.  Notice the difference.  Eric is beat up, but he's still swinging.  I'm beat down and trying to get the motivation to come back to the battlefield of my own life. Of me.

Believe me, there is plenty I could and should be legitimately spanked for but what if we go there and it doesn't work?  Why risk a serious session that might just lead to disappointment? None of my go-to's have been working.  I tried helping others, got a massage, took a walk, cleaned the house, signed up for a class, focused on work, wrote a story, talked to a friend, self disciplined, surprised Eric with a quickie (tmi), watched videos and spoke to a professional.  I also slept more than I have in twenty years. I'm healing from too much at one time and I've shut down in a manner of speaking.

I am extremely lucky to have Eric in my life. There is no "but" after that statement. I don't like who I am right now and don't recognize the girl in the mirror. I'm trying to find my way back but I'm also trying to do it without putting yet another burden on him. We are both navigating waters neither of us have ever been in and quite frankly, would never have chosen to have thrust upon us. Such is life.

I still sound like I'm whining. I'm not. I am all over the board in an attempt to restart my brain.  I seem to be in a loop of waiting for the next shoe to fall. I still walk on egg shells because someone might regress, something might not heal, somewhere might not exist.  I'm living in a land of "what if" and patience being my least visible virtue, is not helping me move forward while waiting it out.
Everyday I tell myself, "Get up, get grateful, get out, and get going Amy Lynn". It sucks having to talk myself into doing my life because not too long ago, I jumped out of bed voluntarily to live my life.

Trying to get back there.


Grrrrrrr... I just wanted a spanking!!!!

HOH-i-ness; is it an attitude? A state-of-mind?  A position in life or a God given right? Where is the rule book?!

I'm not sure how, or even if I need to answer those questions but they seemed like a good enough place to start because Eric is home and our ttwd world is confusing, with this girl brain and that boy brain not seeing eye-to-eye.

When we started down this path a little over two years ago, I believed that among many things, ttwd was a way to keep me on track with things that are important to both of us.  From something as simple as staying on top of the laundry or paying bills, to actually completing my college degree, it has assisted in my accomplishment of many tasks and we've gotten more in sync and better with time, especially since Eric has taught me to tell him what I need.  I'm out of tasks with my biggest goals complete and health issues holding me back. I truly need a mental reset, big time.

In my last post, I admitted to getting sucked into a bunch of reality TV shows that have really been bringing me down.  I am not normally a TV person and have been on overload lately, watching gorgeous men and women battling each other for love, only to be chosen one week and then voted off, completely rejected, outcast, or shunned while someone else takes the spotlight.  Rather than see it for trash television, I've been internalizing how much more attractive or smart these pretty ponies are compared to my fat old tired self, yet even they cannot find happiness. Then I read into everything that was twisted in my head, translated it to what Eric did or didn't do, and began treating his job as something I was in competition with (and losing to, I might add) thus convincing myself he was leaving me, blah blah blah, while spending more time in front of the boob tube while downing pints of ice cream and putting on the pounds.  This is not normal for me at all. I am usually an upbeat, optimistic, motivated girl who enjoys working on bettering myself, my life, our relationship. I started piecing together the facts that I only felt this way after watching those dumb shows.  Eric really wasn't being any different.

I'm an intelligent enough woman, why not just quit watching? As insane as this sounds, I'm addicted now! The characters are in my mind, like we are old friends or acquaintances.  I need to know who stays, who goes, who falls in love. Noooooo! In desperation, I did an Advice to Eric post, thinking if he grounded me off TV for ten days, I'd recover. He didn't see the blog until yesterday because he has been working his tail off but I was ready for the scolding, grounding, and since he was home, an old fashioned over-the-knee spanking to go with it too.

"Why are you watching this crap, Amy?" Eric asked, scrolling through my list of recorded heartbreak.

"I've been bored. I've been lonely. I've been losing my mind. Now I'm hooked. Addicted." I replied, a huge sense of relief washing over me, knowing full well Eric's HOH-i-ness was about to blossom before my very eyes. "What are you going to do about it?" I coaxed.

Eric tossed the remote on the couch and walked past me on his way to the garage.

"Nothing," he stated. "Just stop it."

I raced after him.

"What?!" I hollered. "Wait? You have to do something.  I'm miserable.  You have to help me.  If I fell in a hole, you would pull me out.  I need you to pull me out!"

Eric turned and put his hands on each of my shoulders, squaring up and holding my gaze for a moment before he spoke.

"If you were in a hole, Sweetheart, I would pull you out," he said in a very calm and reassuring tone. "but then," he continued, "if you got mouthy with me, I'd put you right back in that hole and let you find your own way out."

I was stunned.  I just wanted a spanking and Eric was back in the garage rummaging through a box of sprinkler heads.

"Look," I sounded authoritative and controlling, "either we're in this together or we're not.  I've waited for you to get home for weeks and nothing in my life is working and now I've identified a problem and YOU are supposed to fix it."



"Look," Eric imitated my word, my tone, and my body language. "Look, Miss All or Nothing.  I thought we worked through this.  Moderation.  Find the middle ground. Stop playing on the extremes."

Shovel in hand, he went to the back yard and began digging up a Rain Bird that had been beheaded by our lawn mower.  Arms crossed, I planted my feet around his project, making a stance and waiting for the inevitable march upstairs for that spanking.

Eric sighed, put down his tool, and walked away.  I dropped it.  Left him alone and went about my day; functioning as a mature, reasonable, rational wife.


The long story short, no need to go into the gory details of my childish rant, ended with Eric saying,"You are being stupid.  You are bored and you know it.  You also know what to do to fix it, so do it."

Grrrrrrrr.  I just wanted a spanking!!!!!!


Ha ha ha!  While I was upstairs writing this blog post, Eric was putting his own post on our TV.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

Advice to Eric

Your girl is in quicksand

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And sinking fast

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Even from afar you can pull her out

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If you put your foot down

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For ten days

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And ground her off Reality TV.

Image result for you are grounded

Watch the transformation occur

Image result for caterpillar to butterfly