Trouble with a capital "Oof!"

I'm the dork who got herself into trouble. And why? For the same reasons I always do: stubbornness, procrastination, and a firm belief that I'm too much of a good girl to actually warrant true discipline.

(Artwork by Kami Tora.)

Wrong on that last account, evidently. Today I was informed that I earned myself some time with the wicked crop (the longer cousin of the one I prematurely praised in an earlier post). And that, readers, is true discipline indeed.

It's not like I haven't been warned, scolded, spanked for my tardiness prior to this, the last straw. But, really, doesn't he know how "busy" I am? Doesn't he think it's cute when I drag my feet and make sweetly apologetic excuses? Apparently my charms are wasted on that steel-hearted brute because nothing I said (although I know better than to argue) could change his resolve.

Whose fault is this really?

The blame rests squarely on me. And I regret that our Saturday will be marred with the business of reminding me of my promise and of my failure to deliver on that promise. Although, he assures me that it will not make him any more or less comfortable. Well that indifference makes me feel a whole lot better, thank you, Sir.

So when I assume the reminder position on Saturday while he sips the tasty drink I make for him, I will be cursing my slacker ways and dreaming of better excuses so I can get out of the next punishment.

Or, crazy thought: perhaps I'll do as he asks, because when he says, "next time it will be worse", I'll know he means business!

(Author's note: I mean "steel-hearted brute" in the most tender way, of course!)