With the girls off school and uni we have been in fun lock-down since early December. For some reason SO is horrified by the idea that they might discover that parents do have sex; presumably they assume we did it twice for procreative purposes and then said that's the end of that.
I have been tempted to suggest some sort of shed-related encounter. We have one at the very end of the garden well away from the house (and the neighbours' houses for that matter).
But the whole woodshed discipline thing doesn't really work on this side of the Atlantic and, anyway, our shed isn't that sort of shed.It's rather like the one in this picture. What on earth is he planning to do in there? There wouldn't even be room to swing a meaningful spank, would there?
No, our shed is dusty and damp, there are spiders and dead flies and it is about as un-erotic as it could be. No kids come Tuesday though, so the wait may be over soon...
Is that where Hobbits get spanked? The woodshed was so iconic where I grew up. We lived in the city and suburbs, and never had one. We had garages, tool sheds, and woodpiles, but never a good old-fashioned woodshed like I imagine one to be.
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