Grouchland is not worth visiting

It was HOT! So so so soooo stinkin hot that part of my brain melted, slid out my ear, and landed on the floor somewhere. I swear it's the only possible explanation.

Mr. Man makes a nice paycheck. He provides us with a nice life, a nice house, a nice... everything. Since He provides, He also chooses where said paycheck is disbursed. Fair enough. We live in Italy, as I've mentioned, and this is important for understanding some of the things we deal with. Our house is right by the Ocean.. lovely view, and a breeze that sweeps through with such strength at times it's down right windy in our home. We don't care if it's 90 out because the house is cool. Unless the unthinkable happens... no breeze. When it's 98 outside, and the breeze decides it doesn't feel like waving, this matters... like a lot!

In Italy there isn't central air. There are these things that hang on the top of the wall in each room that are supposed to be air conditioners. Electricity in Italy is insanely expensive. These "fabulous" air conditioners cost around 300 dollars a month, to run one, in one room, for a month, in the evening only. Yes, that's right 300 on top of your already insane electric bill. The Man doesn't feel the need to disburse this amount to the electric company. Again, the vast majority of days... we don't need it, it would be incredibly silly to use them.

Yesterday though was different. I mean oh my gosh... sooooo different.

98... check

humidity... check

zero breeze... check

Man at work in air conditioned office.... check

Me sweltering....check

Are you seeing how we might run into some issues here?

So I'm beyond irritated and I send The man an emailing explaining (read whining) about how hot it was and how miserable I was. I tell Him that I can't get a flippin thing done, not the floors (which I spend my life cleaning btw because they are white marble, seriously, 6 people, 2 dogs, and a persian, white, marble... shoot me), Not the laundry, not the patios, nothing, because it is soooo hot I can't even walk down the stairs without sweating. I'm cranky, really cranky, and hot, and have a list that I can't get done.

He writes me back and tells me to do the floors and then turn the AC on for an hour or so, or don't do anything, or hang out in the hammock.

Well, I don't want to sit in the hot sun! I don't want to do nothing, and I definitely do not want to turn the AC on for an hour or so after doing the stupid floors. I want to shut all the windows, crank ALL the AC units and get my stuff done! Now I'm in Super Grouch mode, thank you, so I take a cold shower, I hang out, and I stew in my grouchiness. I briefly contemplate not putting His laundry away because after all, HE was the one who said not to do anything. Fortunately, my brain, sort of mushy from the heat was still in gear enough to save my backside. Until He comes home.

We hang out, have a drink, I keep the grouchy kinda in check, but do manage to convey how miserable I've been all day and how frustrated I am over not being able to get anything done. He listens, He nods, He understands it was incredibly hot. It's still hot, but not as hot, but it doesn't matter, I don't feel any better... I've been too hot all day to have anything matter at this point.

I go downstairs and proceed to cook in front of a gas stove, sweltering even more... this is where I'm pretty sure part of my brain slid out of my ear. I come back upstairs and before I know it, I'm over the side of the bed and I get 6 quick, fairly painless slaps with His belt.

I was furious. I was soooo angry that I busted into tears on the spot. Now, in this house it's okay for me to be mad... as long as I say my peace (read: don't stomp off or pull away) and say it respectfully. So I do...

I tell The Man flat out I'm angry!

I go on about how I sat in this sweltering house aaallll day!

I didn't get anything done that I wanted to get done because I was so frickin hot!

I make HIS dinner over a gas stove which only leaves me hotter!

I make HIM a drink, HOOF it alllll the way upstairs for Him!

I'm super sweaty and seriously cranky, and after all that, he spanks me?! Doesn't he even care how cranky I am? How hot I am? How much I still did do? Seriously?!

Hmmm did I really just say that? I think I might have just tipped the line on acceptable, but I was soooo right. I mean, was I right or was I right?

He laughed at me.

He pulled me down onto the bed and chuckled at me.

Then Mr. Man goes on to say, "Baby, I told you to turn on the AC for a couple of hours. I told you to lay out in the hammock and work on your tan like you like to do. I told you that you had the day off from chores. I told you to sit around and do whatever you felt like, read, go on the computer, whatever, just stay cool."

"That is not what you said! You said I could turn it on IF I did the floors."

"Did you read what I wrote, baby? Because that email was very clear that you could turn it on for a couple of hours. And if you weren't clear, all you had to do was ask."

Crap! I'd been too far past cranky to really read it. I'd looked for the one line I wanted to see.... turn them all on. He gave me the day off and a couple of hours of AC and I was so busy hosting my pity party that I didn't even see it! Double crap~ I wasn't right! I'm never right! Every time I think, this time, I am so right, He lays it all out for me, and suddenly, I am so NOT right.

He tips my face and gives me that deadly serious look. "And I did think about you, why do you think those slaps were so light? And furthermore, you do what I tell you to do. Whether that's washing the floors, or taking the day off, you don't get to get caught up in what you want, you think about what I've told you to do. It doesn't matter what it is."

Gulp!

"Unless you want 6 more that I guarantee aren't going to be small slaps with that belt you will knock off your BS, got it?"

"Yes Sir."

"I didn't spend all day at work looking forward to coming home and spending time with you, for you to be behaving like this. So, secure the attitude, now, got it?"

Uh huh!

And I did! And that's one of those things that makes all this so great. At another point in my life I would have carried the grouch all the way into bed with me.  Now I don't, now it isn't allowed. I'm so grateful because I don't want to waste one minute I could have enjoying being with The Man, wasted in Grouchland!

I still got it extra hard at bedtime.... just enough to spill some tears and put the exclamation point on the lecture. Just enough to make sure that today I stayed away from Grouchland~ it's a very dangerous place for a girl to go. Especially a girl whose been given a solid warning about the perils of visiting. The Man seems to think that if a warning is given, and NOT duly noted, then you wind up with double! So, today I am staying at Happy Camper Land~ it helps that the breeze is better.