“’Tweed’le Need? ‘Tweed’le Duh!”



Not "tweed"

 What is “tweed”? No, it’s not a professorial sport coat with patches on the elbows. Or a punky little frock that I’d love to jack up in order to “melt her Mounds” (much to my Almonds' Joy). Nope. “Tweed” is short in our house for “this thing we do” or TTWD. Both of which have just too many syllables for someone who is as verbally efficient as myself to say again and again. So when we comb the blogs in the neighborhood together (as has become a morning ritual of late), rather than say “this thing we do” – or the even more syllabically burdened TTWD - we’ve shortened it verbally to, simply, “tweed”.

SugarAnne thinks I’m a bit crazy. She says that every time she turns around I’m “threatening” to spank her. She says I need “tweed”. But she says it more accusatorily, as in, “Not me, but “YOU! YOU'RE the one that needs ‘tweed’”!

I tell her, “I’m not 'threatening' you. I’m just ‘infoorrrrming’ you”. And frankly, “informing” her has been more than enough to keep her on the right track and out of trouble. But that brings an interesting development in yours truly as a result. B’Man needs to spank - and spank well.

To some of you this would come as no surprise. It has been apparent for some time. After all, I am BabyMan – he of “have paddle will travel” fame; he who is “quick to spank and slow to listen”; he whom anyone but Clutch Cargo might ascribe the name “Paddle-foot”. For you it’s easy to see: “'Tweed’le need BabyMan? Hmmpf...uhh…'tweed’le duh BabyMan”

Wasn’t I just helping her out – helping us out when we started “tweed”? Wasn’t I just assisting in getting her life in order? Wasn’t I just being the strong and dutiful husband who does what it takes to bring order to our lives so that we could have the liberty to love, and the emotional freedom to pursue our brand happiness? Wasn’t I? I mean – I was, WASN’T I?

Funny, the season and the weather normally call for “tweed”, but she’s running around here as happy as the hell as she can be right now! And I’m not wishing any less upon her. I’m simply noting that I’m not getting to wear “tweed” as often as I like (need?). Perhaps the emotional funk I’ve been experiencing the past couple of weeks is an indication that I ain’t been getting m’spank on sufficiently. I don't know.



"Tweed"

 I mean, there’s been those pet peeve patty-pat-pats with the wooden spoon here and there. And a "slap and tickle" recently. But there hasn’t been a “get your ass over here now, paddle popping, booty stinging, tear inducing, 'Now get your tail in that bedroom and gimme some of that thang'”, spanking in a while.

Hm…I’m probably doing all this “threateni- er, I mean "infoorrrrming” because I ain’t getting the full extent of my necessary spank on. And, come to think of it, if "threateni- er, uh, I mean, if "infoorrrming" her is working so well, can she be a true, blood running through the veins, spanko? I don't know. But if she ain't, some kinda sacrifice will have to be made! 

Ah...it’s probably easier for you than for me to see. So let me just say it for y'all,

“’Tweed’le need B’Man? Hmmmpf...uhh...‘Tweed’le duh B'Man!”