I know this will sound sick, but...

... I love Mondays. :-)

Mind you, I haven't always. Used to groan at the thought of them, like everyone else, until just recently. Ever since I met New Guy and Monday became SpankDay. Now I feel like I have a three-day weekend every week.

We don't even bother with the small talk upon his arrival anymore. He's not in the door five minutes and I'm over his knee. Not that I'm complaining. I never was much for small talk anyway. How was your weekend? Fine. Nice haircut. Thanks. OK, that's enough of that. Spank now, talk later.

And spank he did.

On the couch.

Over the ottoman.

And then later, long after we'd wound down, he got some bug up his butt about something or another and we had an impromptu Round #2 over the dining room table with his belt. Pardon the clutter...

Enough locations, don't you think? Nah. He had to put me in the @#$%ing corner, too!

OK, so maybe, just maybe, I deserved a little of this. Some things have the damndest ways of slipping out at times. He was going on and on and ON with that belt of his, with a very long CCR song playing in the background. (One doesn't usually hear the extended version of "I Heard It Through the Grapevine" on the radio. It goes on about seven or eight minutes, I think.) Anyway, I complained, "Aren't you done yet?" and he replied, "Nope, this is the long version." Har har. I shrugged and said, "Well, at least there's something about you that's long."

That might not have been the most intelligent utterance on my part. Who knew. I think I screeched "I'm sorry" about six times in about as many seconds.

But I still giggled. I can't help it. I'm insatiable.

He said I never learn. I pointed out that if one doesn't learn, it's usually the teacher's fault. Funny, he took exception to that. But I do believe he'll keep trying to impart some sort of lessons to me. And trying. And trying.

I sure hope so. :-)