"This is a Test; This is Only a Test"

"This thing we do” can sometimes be like a good TV show interrupted by a test:

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury have you reached a verdict?”
“Yes we have your honor. In the matter of the State v. the Defendant we find the defendant – “

Then, BAM! an innocuous test pattern is thrust into your face; a long, sustained beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! knifes you in the ear; and those fate-less words of fate are uttered for the entire broadcasting area to hear:

“This is a test. This is only a test”!

When everything is going along just right: the lines of communication are open; the affection is natural, tender and sincere; and the sex is from awesome to the border of debaucherous; you had better look out. Cuz that’s when – beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! There’s gonna be a test. It's "this thing we do".

I’m learning that if I “look out” for the tests and also “look in” – as in look inside my self, I can learn to rightly rightly discern some of the test patterns of “this thing we do”.

A frequent pattern of testing for us is when I test myself: I put my own Domdentity through the ringer. We had a “Submission Day” this past weekend. I conceived a vision of what I wanted to achieve. It required that I stretch myself; test myself; and wade into previously un-chartered waters of aspiring Domdentity. I wanted to test my ability to guide and lead SugarAnne to a new edge in her submission. Perhaps it should’ve been called “’Dom’ Mission Day” instead.

If I had failed to produce the desired results (fail, I did not), I should be upset at me, not her. Because she was not the one testing me. I was testing myself. By the way, she still earned 29 booty flamin’ strokes with the feared bath brush I call “Heatstroke”. (An’ ah meeen fuh-lamin’!).

Sometimes a situation will test me – especially “hormonal discombobulation” situations. A lot of that’s going around the “neighborhood” lately. Janet (“Finding Our Way”); RW (“The Renewed Wife”); and MaryAnn (“Thinking About it Differently”) have all recently posted about the madness that accompanies this unfortunate condition. When MaryAnn said in her "Come Here" post, “I did not mean to test him, really I didn't”, you can hear the helplessness bleed through. I tell ya, even the medicinal qualities of the cocoa bean can’t even begin to soothe the savage beasts that this kooky affliction creates.

With SugarAnne, when I’m tested like that, first I carefully place a partially unwrapped (I wanna make it as easy as possible) bit of chocolate in her general area. And then I go and watch quietly from "over there behind that thing" (much like a layman watching a pyrotechnician work with explosives). If after eating it, she’s still pacing the floor with that, that, that look on her face (yeah, that look), I know what I have here is a hormonal discombobulation situation. And I know it’s gonna test me. If the situation causes her to "pluck my strings enough", I just may have to step up, and “bang her drums” - for her sake mostly, but for mine too. Whatever the situation calls for, if I don’t respond with the proper wisdom and guidance, I shouldn’t be upset with her, I should be upset with myself (and I usually am). Because she’s not the one testing me, the situation is.

At other times, she might personally tests me. Sometimes she needs to test me to find boundaries. These are innocent investigatory testings, i.e.: “I wonder what BabyMan will say if I have two drinks at dinner instead of just one? I don’t need to be asked every detail of her life before she does something. I’m not a micro manager. Although it may produce a warning – if necessary.

And then there’s the “brat attack” test: “Bratting out” just to receive a spanking. Uh…if you know SugarAnne you know that I don't have a brat taken in hand. Her Royal Sweetness does not like pain - AT ALL! The closest she may come to bratting out is maybe sticking her head in the sand about some issue that concerns me. But lemme ask you. Where does that leave her behind? Um, exposed.

Since I'm swift to the paddle, and make no bones about "peeling the skin off that potato", SugarAnne doesn’t even need to brat out. So I haven't really experienced the brat attack test. But if I did, I wouldn't spank. Well, I should say I wouldn't spank until I needed to get my own personal spank on. And then look out! Not only will I peel that potato, I’ll be making French fries too!

These days I'm learning to treat my paddle like a microphone (“Testing 1-2-3”) and ask myself what kind of test is this? Am I testing myself? Is the situation testing me? Or is SugarAnne testing me? When I’m able to discern the pattern of the test, I can then decide how it should be handled (the test, that is, not the paddle).

It could mean that I need to be lovingly gentle. It might mean that I need to be lovingly firm. And it may mean I need to be lovingly dismissive. But one thing it will always mean: It will always mean that the root of my response will be love.

After all, isn't that what "this thing we do" is? “'This...' is a test. This is only a test” - of how I show my love for her.