Stilettos In One Hand and A Riding Crop In The Other


English: Bettie Page with a riding crop

English: Bettie Page with a riding crop (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

That’s one of the visualizations that I use to try and keep our FLR fun and feisty.

 

Of course, a good day is when I get more use out of the stilettos and less out of the riding crop.

 

But, seriously, I’ve kind of been letting the hard-nosed end of our FLR go, due to a multitude of changes that have happened in our household since the holidays. And, giving credit, where credit is due, My Pet has been doing his best to hold up his end of the bargain, though.

 

He’s been seeing to the household, as much as he can, now that he is working two jobs outside the home. But, sadly, some of his days are long and he can’t always make preparations for me, as I would like. I’ve had to re-adjust to fending for myself or making due until he gets home. The chores aren’t always done to my liking, on a daily basis, like I had grown accustomed to, when he was unemployed, but I’ll take that healthy pay-check I see deposited into my account, every other week, over worrying about whether the toilet has been scrubbed, today. He catches up on all of his chores on his early days or his days off, so three days out of seven, still ain’t bad. Plus, we have our young minions back from their home-away-from-home, now, and they can pick up some of the slack.

 

We have encountered two minor issues, of late, though and that is his lack of attention to details and his continued failed attempts at trying to predict and anticipate my needs and desires.

 

To be sure, I am somewhat flattered that he even tries to anticipate my needs, before I speak, but he is so woefully bad at it, that it makes me angry that he even bothers. I spend entirely too much time reminding him how poor he is at that task and actually requesting that he stop trying. If I haven’t explicitly asked him to do something, or if I haven’t made him write it in his journal, as something he needs to remember to do for me, then I don’t want him to do it. For instance, if it’s Saturday, then I expect for him to draw me a bath at a specific time, every weekend. If I don’t want to take a bath (which is unlikely, but possible), I make sure to tell him so. But, if it’s a Wednesday, and I happen to have the day off, he might get into his head that, because I am not working, I must want a bath, when instead, I had planned to just sit around and do nothing particularly special, I will get upset with him for drawing me a bath, without first asking me.

 

On to the subject of details. I knew, when I met him and then married him, that, on some level, he is kind of a slacker. His last apartment, before we moved in together, was nothing short of a nightmare. Sure, it was “tidy”, but it was by no means, clean. That was because he didn’t have anybody to impress and thus, didn’t feel the need to those tasks that others might actually care about. But, by now, he definitely knows that I am a distinctly detail-oriented person. I make notes to remind me of notes I plan to write. I have a system for everything so that I do not forget the details. Each step is designed to propel or remind me of another detail that needs to be seen to. It’s nothing for him to do the bare minimum and then be surprised to learn that he has forgotten something. Unfortunately, for him, he’s often forgetting a detail that is extremely important to me. I find myself reminding him that there is, indeed, a method to my madness. I don’t just have him do things a particular way as a type of punishment, but as a type of lesson, to get him into the habit of doing things the proper way, or, at least the way that I expect it to be done, if I were doing it. I let a lot of things slide, because I know of his propensity to do at little as possible, but there are some things that Diva will not abide being done any old way.

 

He still is kind of making me giggle when he gets upset and has to bite his tongue and say “Yes, Diva!”, but, I am actually seeing less of the actual tongue-biting, so things are definitely improving around here. I’m even feeling good enough to invest in a new pair of stilettos.

 

Enhanced by Zemanta
Advertisements