"You Gotta Love this New Math!"

"I dream of those kinds of days. And from what I read he is the ideal husband. I can’t wait for the day my marriage is like that.”

Now, that’s quite a compliment!

Those words, a direct quote, are a part of a wonderful comment that SugarAnne received from one of her readers on her “Submission Day” post. The reader had read both of our blogs, and from the contents thereof, had surmised that things are wonderful and good and right in our marriage. She had further surmised that I, yours truly (ahem – yes me), was the “ideal husband”; and further-freakin’-more, that our marriage is one to be emulated and strived for.

Sooooo…puffed up with macho pride (insert nose thumbing macho sniff), I basked in the glow of my “ideal-ness” for a short time. Basked, that is, until an email alert notified me that there was another comment to SugarAnne’s post. Ah, it was Her Royal Sweetness, SugarAnne herself, responding. And what was her highness' response you ask?

Perhaps she thanked the dear reader for her astute observation and heaped laurels of appreciation and accolades upon her “ideal husband”? Nope. Bad guess. That wasn’t it. Maybe she encouraged the reader that “this thing we do” is different for every couple and that surely said reader and her husband will find their own place of love and comfort and joy in this lifestyle? Nooooooooo (shaking head), uh-uhhhhh (pursed lipped smirk).

Here’s what Her Royal Sweetness had to say as her reply:
“hmmm... BabyMan the ideal husband?” was her ponderous beginning, “Not yet…” she wrote answering her own rhetoric.

At this point I’m thinking:
What?! A question about my ‘ideal’ness?! Not just a question but an immediate answer too?! And that was just the beginning.

She then followed up with:
“…but I am molding him into shape as we speak. He'll be ideal in another couple of weeks by my calculations.” That’s right folks, not a typo – “molding him” said she. No little “winkie wink sign” and no little smiley face. Oh yeah, intellectually, I knew they were there. But nevertheless, the puffiness escaped my ego and sent it sputtering throughout the air of my office like a balloon with a fatal leak. It landed, my head included, with a loud thud into my folded arms on top of my desk.

"MOLDING?!…he’ll BE ideal?!…calculations?!”? I don’t know what kind of math SHE was using. I quelled the urge to respond immediately: “Calcu-frickin’-lations?! Calcu-frickin’-lations?! Somebody’s gonna be taught some of that new math when I get home! And then we’ll see how things adds up!”

Instead, I read her response again. And again; and once more. It began to add up beautifully. SugarAnne is by no means a brat. So she wasn’t bratting out. And she ain’t stupid. You know that. I know that. So this wasn’t no slip of the tongue. You see, you’d have to really know SugarAnne for this to add up just right. You’d have to know her to sense and feel and see the very broad smiley face and, more importantly, the absentee winkie wink toward my direction that is inherent in her response. This is the type of wittiness and charm and playfulness that ocassionally pierced the dark clouds of depression, insecurity and low self-esteem that characterized our B.S. (before spanking) days. And I'll tell ya, frankly, it warms my ever-loving heart to not only see so much more of it these days, but to be “instrumental” in bringing out this tasteful flavor in her personality. That’s exactly what “Submission Day” was all about. It was about fun together, for a fun-loving couple, who are enjoying themselves incredibly, as they grow within themselves individually and into this new lifestyle together. The life, for us, isn’t about beating anybody down, but all about building everybody up (btw: Turiya’s excellent post touches on the building up thing).

So with just as much fun and with just as much love, that very evening I “allowed” Her Royal Sweetness to continue "MOLDING" me. Hey, I’m a fast track sorta guy. And I don’t wanna be waiting two whole weeks to become an “ideal husband”. I wanna be the “ideal husband” for her right now. I mean, I know what a royal pain in the ass "molding" someone can be. And that’s exactly what the evening turned out to be for SugarAnne: a royal pain in the ass. According to MY calculations, just like on  “Submission Day”, it all added up to passion, love multiplied and no long division.

You gotta love this new math!