12 strokes

“You darling have been more than a little snarky. Let me just get my downstairs cane. Now disrobe and over the chair.”

No warm up. Just a dozen well placed strokes with a cane I didn’t even know Hannah had placed in our coat closet.

“I will not… Stroke… Have you… Stroke… Become a grumpy old man… Stroke.”

My bottom was blazing and I was deeply relieved when Hannah finally stopped.

“There. Done. And no more snippyness.”

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