Friday I started feeling ill and because of my recent problems, decided a quick trip to my doctor’s office might be the smart thing to do. As I got started, I checked my gauges and wouldn’t you know it, the gas gauge was sitting on a quarter of a tank. Dang it!
You see after that last incident with the fuel, Dan said if I let it get below a quarter, I’d be in trouble. He changes which implement that trouble would come with but he seems to mention the big heavy strap more than others.
That strap is ouchie enough when used in play and I have no desire to feel it used seriously. So I’ve been very good about checking my gauges. Also, I don’t want to hear the lecture I’d get if he caught me letting the fuel run low again. I think the lecturing is almost worse than the spanking…almost.
When I saw that gauge sitting just a hair above the quarter mark, I couldn’t believe it. I tried to think of an excuse to use. I was feeling badly and on my way to the doctor’s, afer all. But I knew that wouldn’t work. As soon as I thought of it, I could hear Dan’s response in my head. “If you’d filled it when it got to half a tank, you would never have gotten to a quarter on a day when you didn’t feel like filling it.”
Grrrrr! What was worse was that I knew he’d be right. If I had filled it, I wouldn’t have to get out and pump gas when I felt like crap. Which is what I was going to have to do. I wasn’t that sick, just feeling bad in a way that I knew needed to be checked. If I’d been really sick, I wouldn’t have even been driving. Dan even asked me if I was okay to drive and I assured him I wasn’t feeling that bad.
I was well enough to drive so I must’ve been well enough to pump gas. That’d be his thinking, I knew. As I pulled up to the stoplight and prepared to make the turn toward the station we use, I sat there seething. I couldn’t believe I’d let it get low again. I was ready to throw a fit about something that was my own doing so why was I mad?
Because that meant that Dan knew best. Aaaagh!
I almost kicked the van when I got out at the pumps. And as bad as it was burning me to do it, I filled the tank. I thought about just putting in enough to keep me above a quarter or even a half, but I could hear Dan’s voice in my head. I growled some more but kept going until the handle clicked off.
I growled a little more as I drove to the doctor’s but I slowly calmed down and eventually had to laugh at myself. I still have a bit of a rebellious streak and as much as I may think of myself as a self-sufficient woman, I have my weaknesses. For some reason, I can’t seem to remember to put gas in my car which could be dangerous and is really a bad thing to forget. I know that.
I was fighting the fact that I’m not completely capable of keeping up with something that’s my responsibility. It meant that I need Dan’s influence to help me remember. It’s bad enough to get spanked for breaking the rules, it’s worse when you know good and well you shouldn’t have done it. That’s the humbling part and I hate it. That’s worse than any spanking could be. Yech. *shudder*
So where does the gloating come in? Almost as soon as I came in and gave a full report of what the doc had to say (mild problem and I got some good drugs to fix it), Dan says he’s going to run some errands and needs the van. I about choked.
One of the reasons I was so tempted to not stop for fuel was because he very rarely drives the van. Even when we go places together in the van, I usually drive. I’d almost convinced myself that he’d never know but I knew the guilt would get to me. I couldn’t believe the one day I almost slipped was the day he needed to drive it. But I hadn’t slipped and the van had gas.
In fact, I was so proud of myself, I let him know that was fine because the tank was full. And then being the silly brat that I am, I told him the whole story. I even stressed the part about how much it burned me to fill it, too. I wasn’t going to let the opportunity go. I thought a deserved a prize for being good.
That wasn’t to be though. Dan saw it as an opportunity to gloat and gloat he did! He practically chortled with delight and I thought for a second he was going to break into a jig in the middle of our living room. He was crowing something about how communication was “finally achieved” but I was too busy rolling my eyes to listen.
Dan’s been exceedingly cheerful ever since so I guess it was worth it. In fact, he was so cheerful this morning that I got a vigorous welcome when I came out of the shower. He was at his computer and the little strap was handy so I got some very pretty red stripes on my bottom. Yup, I just checked and they’re still there. That’s nice and I *like* it because that spanking was for fun. As opposed to how I’d feel if I’d gotten those same marks because I’d let the fuel run low. Funny how that works, huh? *wink*