Do you ever put off doing something that you know has to be done? Our dear friend Bonnie experienced just such an affliction, but she was lucky. Her husband Randy helped her to overcome it. Read on:
The Price of Procrastination
I'm good about getting things done. My career as a journalist/writer taught me respect for deadlines. Finishing on time is the right thing to do for many good reasons. This belief lies at the very core of my being.
But some tasks I avoid. A while back, I mentioned to my ever vigilant husband, Randy, that I needed to make an appointment to see a certain grumpy doctor. He's a specialist who I visit periodically. At least I should, but I know I won't die if I put it off. But I could get a spanking.
Recently, Randy asked me whether I had made my appointment with Doctor Grumpy. "No, not yet," I replied. I was surprised he recalled my offhand comment from weeks before. But he told me that my health is very important. I suddenly realized that the health of my butt was rapidly dropping in importance.
So I got spanked with the paddle for procrastination. I told him that he wouldn't like this doctor either, but that didn't seem to help my case. He grabbed a solid hardwood paddle with an oval shaped head, sat in the center of the couch, and directed me down over his lap. I was face down and bottom up, positioned for a traditional corporal punishment. That's a tradition we uphold.
He raised my skirt and lifted the paddle. "Bon, you must learn not to procrastinate." He lectured a while longer, but my attention by then was on more immediate concerns.
The smooth blade of paddle impacted against my exposed skin. It hurt. It always hurts. I cringed in expectation of a follow-up swat. But he paused. For what seemed like an eternity. Am I still getting a spanking? I wondered.
I got a confusing answer when Randy reached over and grabbed the TV remote. As I awaited my inevitable destiny, he surfed through channels (as men do) until landing on a sports program. Satisfied with his choice, I smacked me again.
"Ow!" I exclaimed. I wasn't ready. I thought we were beginning in earnest. But no. He halted once more and just rubbed the wooden surface across my cheeks. He seemed to be paying more attention to his show than my scarcely blushed posterior.
After a third delayed swat, I recognized that he was teaching me a lesson about procrastination. This lesson was more way annoying than it was painful. I'd had enough.
"Are you going to spank me or what?" I can tell you his response was everything but "Or what." He whacked me good. Then he whacked me bad, pausing every so often to drive home his point. By the time he finished, my home fires were definitely alight.
After my punishment concluded, Randy surprised me again. He pulled a marker from his pocket and handed it to me along with the paddle. At his instruction, I wrote these words on the face of the paddle – "On [date] I was spanked for procrastination." Then I signed it. He displayed the paddle on the wall. He said it’s a better reminder than just a sore seat because it lasts longer.
I made the appointment the next day and I will see Doctor Grumpy on Tuesday. Fortunately, he won't be examining my bottom.
So did I learn anything? Yes, I did. I learned that my queries about getting spanked are always answered forcefully in the affirmative.
Thank you, Bonnie, for sharing that painful lesson with us.
Slava Ukraini
Glory to Ukraine
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