Wednesday, March 6, 2013

The erosion of comfort

Today is not a good day by any stretch of the imagination. That bloody skirt started the tail spin. In the past eight weeks the skirts have shot up about 21 cm (8 1/4 inches). Unfortunately the comfort level has not shot up to match this staggering figure. And it sure as hell hasn't shot up the additional 14 cm (5 1/2 inches) to meet the latest hike.

See there is always a problem when His views clash with those of the outside world and one small slave... and yes one gets that his views are the only ones that count. Unfortunately one also has to live in that outside world. As one spent a not inconsiderable amount of time trying to explain to him, when you are a middle aged (well if one is middle aged, then one can expect a telegram from the queen... and will be the first member of the family to do so) old (yeah don't like that word either... a few years off) mature woman it is not considered seemly to potter around with your skirts up round your fluffies... if you have any.

He of course understands what one is saying...
He just doesn't agree with it.
Sighs so here one is... living in fear that the new shorter skirt length will become the new normal...
He swears that isn't the case. It is strictly for round the house...

Now you are all probably wondering why one has such trust issues aren't you. Well the trouble is that one does trust Him... to push things until they are where he wants them to be. Paranoid you are thinking? Oh hell yes and let's look at the evidence shall we...
We need a picture of the skirt for the blog so one suggests a nice little pic with the ruler so you can see how unreasonably short it is
He shoves one it and takes the pic... so one small slave can see how good the legs are looking 'cos that is obviously the issue rolls eyes

In that click of the camera only for round the home has stretched to include a few viewers
Already that bench mark has been moved... subtly, but moved nevertheless
This is how things are done around here. It is like a war of attrition...

And all of this nestles against the complex backdrop of wanting to make Him happy... shhh one does strive for this... when he least expects it... and the knowledge that one isn't supposed to fight him... well not quite so hard. Besides He usually gets what he wants... really one should just learn to roll over... it would be so much easier.

So anyone want to bet that come next year when we scamper off to the water park one is wearing an itsy bitsy bikini, a fake tan (so as to not blind some innocent) and that skirt?
Anyone at all?

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