Last night I smacked Sparkle’s bottom, and like the old (usually untrue) spanking cliche, it hurt me more than it hurt her.
I kid you not. I smacked her butt, and I said “Ow.”
I’ve been taking an Urban Search and Rescue course through the fire department the past few days. This is actually the second such course (each is 40 hours total) I’ve taken recently in the process of getting certified in that area. This course is the “advanced” level of the previous course and is a lot more physically demanding than the first one.
In any event, yesterday’s course involved the section referred to as “lifting and moving heavy objects”, with the heavy objects in question being 10,000 pound blocks and slabs of concrete. And we don’t use cranes…just things like pry-bars, come-alongs, jacks, air lift bags and lots of wood cribbing. The prior day, I’d been assembling 20 foot tall wooden building shores, which involved carrying a lot of lumber and swinging a hammer.
So, I suppose its no surprise that my arm, no matter how much it likes spanking Sparkle, protested last night. Thankfully, we’d already taken care of her weekly reassurance spanking the night before when I wasn’t quite so sore (she was afterwards, however).
At least there’s a big bottle of Aleve in the medicine cabinet.