Summer submission

dominant wifeSummer time and the rigours of  my training and submission have relaxed. A bit too much I suspect.

For a well tempered husband, submission is not directed by the lady of the house, it is given to her. Easy to forget as the winter routines give way to fizzy drinks on the terrace. And, I fear, I did forget a little.

So, this morning, I woke up and, as I should every day, went downstairs first, put on Hannah’s tea and a pot of coffee. Opened the curtains. Unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher and brought Hannah tea in bed.

When she came down an hour later I had been working but quickly asked if she needed our shared computer. She did, briefly and I waited, not patiently, obediently. When she was done I asked her a question which I had posed before, “Darling, as you lead our marriage I wondered why you don’t sit at the head of our dinner table?”

Hannah did not answer but I know she is thinking about it.

It would, I think, more accurately reflect how we chose to lead our lives.

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