It’s spring, folks. The calendar may not agree yet, but the snow is melting rapidly and the rivers are flooding just as fast. It’s muddy and gloomy and wet, the wind dances from side to side, there is the undefinable scent of shifting seasons in the breeze.
i’ve always been a person tied to the seasons. Summer finds me optimistic, energetic, raring to go. Fall charges me to stock and hoard, canning and drying food, digging out blankets and cleaning the house in preparation of cold weather. Winter creates a sluggish me, reluctant to leave the warmth and safety of my cozy hidey-hole, introspective and dark.
Spring, however, has it’s own clutch of fun. i’m excitable and fractious, prone to hi-jinx and sassy misbehavior. A slap on my ass might find me quickly returning in like kind. A command from Up High is often met with teasing compliance. And, just sometimes, i get mired down in mental mud and really don’t know when to shut up. (i know, me, being disobedient? perish the thought!)
i could sense the spring tora rising this weekend. He’s been in an ass grabbing mood lately, sometimes lil pinches, sometimes caresses, sometimes big ol swats that make me yelp and jump. i never know which of those it will be until He’s already done it, so i’m a little twitchy right now when He walks behind me. Saturday He had been a monster, molesting me whenever the chance presented itself, and i was becoming quite annoyed with the whole deal, especially when trying to get supper on the table while avoiding 6 busy children. So, He cracks me on the ass as i’m pulling dishes out of the dishwasher, and without even realizing it, i shot up and thrust my arm out to hit Him back.
i just about died as i came to my senses.
It must have been funny to see, i shoot straight up with every unthinking intention to hit Him back, and right before the point of impact i come to and flap my hands stupidly, trying to shake the stupid uprising out or something, flashing my smile of appeasement and avoiding eye-contact. He watched the whole thing, laughed and sauntered off.
i don’t know what was worse, the fact that i still have a section of my brain that will try and clobber Him, or that He finds that amusing. Not threatening, not interesting, amusing. Is there anything more infuriating than staging an coup and being brushed off like a pesky fly?
i’ve been trying to lure the slumbering sadist out of Him again. It’s like there’s this tiger sleeping in its den, quietly dozing, and i’m prancing about in front of the entrance wearing a ground beef bikini. While washing my hair with bacon grease. Can i scream “i’m stupid and want You to hurt me a lot!!!” any louder?
Teh dumb. i haz it.
i’ve promised Him that at some point this summer, i will wait until we are outside and He is busy with something. i will come up and haul off and crack Him as hard as possible. Then start running. Again with the infuriating, because He just smiles. There’s a gleam in His eye that tells me He will relish that moment. A bit of a smirk around the edges of His sensual lips that suggests He doubts i have the balls to do so. A whole history’s worth of experiences that promise me any action on my part will be ruthlessly crushed on His.
Change is good, wakes us up and reminds Him why He took me. A certain ground-line of stability is also nice. 😀