When we woke on the morning of our drive up north for Easter, Emma Jane and I played: spontaneously, somewhat sleepily, delightfully.
It was quickly deduced that the new, short Malacca cane that I picked up in a Dutch antique shop on a recent visit really was too inflexible, so I reached for a whippier cane from my rack.
Three sharp strokes followed, before my mind worked out a little game. “They’ll see you uncomfortably to Coventry,” I giggled.
Three more: “And they’ll do until Nottingham.” Numbers seven to nine? Squirming on the M1 up to Leeds. And then three final ones for the remaining leg of the trip.
Playful play. Lovely play. Just perfect.
You could do the M25 next – you’d need to work out how many strokes for the traffic jams.
Lovely story, Abel! Sometimes playful spankings are the best.