Firm words

I drank too much last night and my head aches. It took me ages to get up and out of bed this morning - I lay there feeling the pain behind my eyes and regretting how much red wine I downed last night.

We went to a friend's house to watch the Jubilee concert and got a bit carried away. I'm no great royalist, but I do love Tom Jones - and the wine was a little too good to resist.

I was, I think, a bit loud and a bit obnoxious. SO was driving, so today has no headache - and occupies the moral high-ground.

I stayed in bed nearly two hours after the rest of the household and it didn't take ESP to read SO's disapproval. I dozed, waited for the painkillers to dull the pain in my head - and fantasised about the severe scolding and brisk walloping my behaviour warranted.
It involved a duvet thrown back, my bare bottom and the sort of strapping that stays with you for a week. A sharp-edged lecture helped to put me firmly in my place.

It also occurred to me that I've missed significant moments with this blog. Not even one year to make a fuss about, but it has passed its half-year without me noticing, and the 100,000th hit went by without comment either.

What was I on about six months ago? Half a year ago I was preoccupied with the fine art of scolding - as I am today. Or being 'told off' as it's called where I spent my formative years.

A good telling off was something to be feared - a stern talking-to that nearly always did the trick. And does the trick; to this day a really good scolding presses my buttons in a very special way. Scolding without spanking works, spanking without scolding does not

If I'm honest, I suppose I'm a 'scoldo' more than a 'spanko'. In the depths of my hang-over this morning I knew I'd behaved poorly - and desperately wanted to be told as much.