“I’m going to have a bath.”So how could I resist? I waited until Haron was undressed and about to step into the deep, warm, bubbly water, and stormed in – cane in hand. “What on earth do you think you’re playing at, young lady?”
She giggled, and tried to look serious. I thought I’d better explain. “Did I not tell you very clearly that you were to report to your Housemaster straight after the game? And yet I find you’ve ignored me and come to get washed and changed.”
She was trying hard not to smile, as she yes-sirred me.
“Now get into the bath, and stand with your hands on the wall.”
“But it’s hot….”
“Well more of you will be hot in a moment. This will teach you to get sent off playing hockey.”
Six strokes followed: quite nasty little cutting ones. On the fourth, my backswing msy have been at an odd angle: the trajectory of the cane made it catch a glancing blow on the shower curtain on its way down. She squeaked with surprise at the odd impact that resulted. “Quiet girl: that will have hurt the shower curtain far more than it hurt you.”
Somehow we avoided collapsing into peals of laughter before the final two had been administered. And then I left her in peace, to sit down in the hot bath on her freshly-hot stripes.
I am quite shocked that Haron’s abuse of the shower curtain didn’t result in starting over again! 😉
Go ahead, Indiana, put even more evil thoughts into Abel’s twisted little head…
Wow Abel… I think Smudge just called you a pin head. A bent pinhead no less. 😀
Sweet scene, I always love reading real life encounters… especially the slightly silly.
Really, Smudge, you do Abel too little credit. I’m sure he’s already thought of that. Might have forgotten, though– short-term memory can be a problem with increasing age.
Indiana, don’t you start as well 😯
I hope your wonderful shower curtain’s okay… and of course the wonderful Haron
Thanks, Nic
The curtain and I are both unscathed. The cane, however, looked like it was living its last days. (It’s one of our oldest and thinnest.)
After I’d enjoyed my soak, Abel said: “How was your bottom, sitting down into the warm bubbles?”
I said, “Fine!” – because it was.
He was so disappointed, poor love.
Sorry, Haron– forgot that tops cannot be trusted to perceive irony in such comments! Must be having my own short-term memory problems.