Strip, bend, grab, wait.

Now since I know the consequences for not doing something the way He's decided He wants it, you would think I'd be totally on top of it, right? Especially since there aren't that many truly small things He cares about, you would think that when He mentioned one, my ears would perk, right? That it would become this big yellow post it on my brain, right? Me too! Only somehow, it doesn't always quite work out that way. Mental forehead slap!

The Man and I are so intertwined that I frequently know what He's thinking. I just sense it. He's started making the joke that since I'm so in tune with Him, I should get punished for not doing something He thought of, but forgot to mention. I don't think that's a very funny joke, personally.

So last night after dinner, I was doing the dishes and I had this horrible, niggling sensation, that I was going to be getting in trouble, but I couldn't figure out why! Maybe it was because He'd grilled me on a few things? But I'd passed on all of them! I'd had a moment or two of thinking, oh my gosh! But then realized, wait, yes, I did get that done! Yay me! So why on earth would I be in trouble??? I decided I couldn't be. I'd done everything. I was a good girl! No need to sweat it!

I plod up to third floor (Yes, our bedroom is on the third floor, why I do not have an ass of steel, I have yet to figure out!) step out to the balcony, where he is sitting, and say, "Wow, what a beautiful sky!"

He looks at me and says, "Yes it is. Now, go inside, take off your dress, bend over, and grab your ankles."

omg! crap! crap! craaaap! I want to pout, and whine and ask what I did, but I don't. I go, I strip, I bend, I grab, and I wait. I wait while He closes the door. I wait while He picks a cane. I wait while I wonder what I did. I wait while the fear builds and builds inside of me. I wait for all of thirty seconds until He's standing next to me, thirty seconds that felt like countless minutes. Have I mentioned obedience is hard?

"Do you know what you did?"

"No." It's a breathless squeak.

He tells me. It's a small annoyance, but it's one He's repeated over and over to me, yet somehow I repeatedly forget to make a sticky note on my brain about it. He reminds me that He isn't all that into repeating Himself.

The Man begins swooshing, I begin my screaming, sobbing, breathless apologies. Once He feels His point has been adequately delivered He pulls me up, wraps His arms around me, and cuddles me into His chest. He kisses my head, strokes my back, and whispers in my ear until all of my tears are shed. I tell Him how sorry I am I caused Him an ounce of irritation. I hate when I do, not because of the consequences, but because He's so damn great that I just can't stand to be the source of the smallest angst. He smiles and says, "Don't you know it's impossible for me to be irritated with you?"

Really?

Later in the night, I said to Him, "You really don't get irritated with me?"

"No. Well, yes I do, but only for a minute, as soon as I see you bending over any irritation I felt is gone."

"How come?"

"Because you look so good like that."

Maybe the stairs are making a difference on my ass after all?! Maybe I don't need that stupid elliptical?! Probably this qualifies as false hope.

"And because as soon as I see you being so accepting of being punished, being so obedient, and just bending over when I tell you to, it all dissipates."

I used to finagle, pout, reason, and basically try to filibuster. Geeze, God, could I drag it out... to a point. Eventually He'd say enough, but until that point, I really tried! Once I figured out it was pointless and simply accepted my medicine, life became sooo much easier. And this morning? You better believe His message was etched into my brain! The source of irritation was taken care of before His feet hit the kitchen floor.