What’s the worst thing that could happen in a spanking household to upset the natural order of things?

Illness can interrupt the best-laid of anyone’s plans I guess.  Similarly, work and travel often seriously get in the way of the important things in life.  But these are universals.

It would be hard to say which of the 3 of us was most distressed when domestic god Abel had a glass shatter on him whilst washing up this evening, resulting in a nasty deep cut to his hand.  His right hand!  Whilst he struggled to bear his terrible injury in a manner matched only by women who have lost limbs, surely it is Haron and I for whom you should feel truly sorry?

Here we were, primed by our reformatory scene for a holiday weekend of fun, and suddenly faced with the prospect of no spanking, no play – even no discipline: it was that serious!  Mournfully I traced the criss-crossed map of my birching with my fingertips, wondering if this was to be an end to my visit’s cumulative total of whipping?  Cursing Fate’s cruel roll of the dice in so protecting my bottom.  Considering how many would feel this a lucky escape, but knowing that others will understand such a disappointment entirely.

And at least I can report a happier ending here than might have been the case.  Brave Abel summoned up his healing powers and that sense of toppish duty soon rose back to the surface.  Even before I was put to bed that evening, he had managed to grasp a hairbrush with more than adequate dexterity, so his recovery seems to be well underway.

Haron and I are mightily relieved.