A new routine...

Well, I found out last night that Nick has decided that the weekly stay-on-track spankings are a good idea. First, a bit of background:

The ceiling fan in our bedroom has been out of commission for a while now. That in itself is not such a big deal, since we have a nice oscillating fan too. The problem is that the overhead light portion of the fan also doesn't work. That means that we've been using our small bedside lamps to light the room. Nick and I both hate rooms that you can't light properly.

So anyway, we broke down and bought a new ceiling fan last night. He took the old one down, and of course I started looking at the blades with a bit of a gleam in my eye, but I thought, "Nah, no way those are sturdy enough." Nick of course caught on to what I was thinking, and after we had the new one installed, he took the old one out to the garage.

"What are you going to do with it?" I asked innocently.

"Well, I'm going to take it apart and make some sort of paddle to paddle your ass with."

He got the blades off of the motor housing, picked one up, and said, "Come here." Now it seemed harmless enough, so I wasn't too apprehensive, and I stood up and moved next to him.

"WHACK!"

Holy crap! That thing HURT! It turned out to be deceptively sturdy. He got in a few test whacks before I literally ran away (I never do that). Well, he puttered around for a few for minutes, and I relaxed and sat back down to talk to him. Then, out of the blue, he announces that he has something to take care of before we go to bed. Now when he says he has "something to take care of" it's always my butt.

"But, I've been good this week! I did everything you asked, and I even did a few other things!"

"And I'm proud of you. But this is just maintenance."

All of a sudden my great idea seemed like a horrible, horrible idea. A spanking EVERY WEEK just to keep me on track? What the hell was I thinking? I stalled for a bit until I got The Look that ends all nonsense, then I took the hand he was offering and stood up and bent over the car.

"You'll thank me for this later."

"Are you sure?"

Whack! "Owwwww!"

I got 50 swats, and they hurt, but I did thank him later. Today I feel peaceful and loved, and very well taken care of, and I know that it was exactly what I needed. Thank you, Baby.