A couple of days ago I was quietly working at my desk. Very quietly, in fact; anybody in the same room might have thought I was asleep.

Abel walked in and, seeing me with my head on the desk and my eyes closed, made the same conclusion. “Upstairs, young lady!” he commanded, waking, er, distracting me from work.

Despite the imminent threat of punishment, I couldn’t help giggling as I followed him to his study. He lectured me about work habits, but I could do nothing but giggle.

“This is not a laughing matter!” Abel said, brandishing a cane. “Trousers down. Touch your toes.”

I did, biting on a smile. He delivered six strokes, not the hardest ever, but stinging and quite impressive.

“Do you still think it’s funny?” he asked.

Oh, dear… It was! But could I admit that being found snoozing at my desk was pretty funny, whether or not it was also painful?

“A little bit,” I suggested as compromise.

Abel didn’t like it at all. “Bend over!” he ordered.

Ouch. Six more strokes, harder this time, in quick succession. I yelped and wriggled a lot.

“Let this be a lesson for you,” said Abel. “Go back to work, young lady.”

Luckily, he didn’t ask whether I still found it funny.

Because, well…