Rolling with the easter egg

We spend Easter at the holiday house. Two of the children travelled down with me yesterday, and the rest of the gang arrived late this afternoon.

Nothing about the trip was easy. The traffic was thick, and when we finally got here, there was a baby bat flying around the house. Of course, we all shrieked and ran out of the house. I called my husband. What should I do? This was not in my job description!

“Get the prawn net from the garage and catch it,” he said.

So, I did that...wandered back into the house with my prawn net, and opened all the doors, so hopefully he’d fly out, and the children watched from the balcony while I went about being the intrepid hunter.

“Mum, he’s behind you. No, now he’s in front of you. Turn around!!”

Even in my fear, I saw the comedy, and in amongst the shrieks of fear, we laughed our heads off. God knows what the neighbours thought.

This afternoon, as I worked about the house, I paid attention to some of the photographs taken of us over the years, and I can’t hide from the fact that I am aging. The evidence is there in the photographs that with each new decade, there are more lines; a less youthful look.

My husband took a photograph of me on our last holiday, in February. He put it up on the computer and showed me recently. It wasn’t a youthful face looking back at me; the way I looked at twenty, or thirty, but gosh, the girl looked happy; radiant even. It was our last evening out before we went home and we dressed up. He took the photograph just before we left out apartment; our little dungeon. When we walked across the street, past the hotel with a crowd drinking at tables outside, and to the restaurant, I remember all eyes being on us. I asked my husband why they were looking at us. He said he had no idea.

But, I think what they saw was a couple long married, dressed up and out on the town for a romantic dinner. Not youthful anymore. They were an elegant couple now; still in harmony and still in love. The photographs of my life...

So, where is the D/s in this post, you are asking? Well, you see, I was sure I packed my lap top charger, but it seemed not. I looked through everything three times over and the charger was definitely not here, I told my husband on the phone. He assured me he’d find it at home and he spent over an hour looking for it, finally admitting defeat. When he arrived, he was clearly frustrated.

“I’ve looked all over the house. It isn’t there.”

“Don’t worry. I must have put it somewhere you didn’t look.”

I was in the bedroom two minutes later when he arrived with my laptop charger in his hand.

“What’s that?” he wanted to know.

“Is that mine? I don’t understand.”

“Oh, you’ll understand all right when I am finished with you. It was in the laptop case, in the zipped area that you hadn’t opened.”

“It is not possible. I looked three times.”

He walked into the dressing area where he keeps two nasty canes and took them both out and waved them at me.

“What is possible is that your bottom will be roasted this evening!”

And fair enough, too! You don’t think this means I don’t get any chocolate this Sunday, do you? You know I would never steal from the children’s stash. You do know that, right?

May the Easter Bunny bring you some of your favourite chocolate this Sunday. My very best wishes for a very Happy Easter and may you too, roll with the easter egg.