Some years ago, a coworker was talking about her roommate wanting to use a shock collar on her (the coworker’s) dog. She was against it. She told him if he tried, she’d put the shock collar on his balls and see how he liked it. Everyone laughed. Obviously, she didn’t know I do that to Lion. I wasn’t volunteering that information. Women often talk about training their men to do housework or to bring them flowers or to do other tasks. You’d think that would make me the happiest woman on the planet. I have permission to train Lion and to shock his balls and to punish him for not doing what I think he should do. I bet some women would liken that to winning the lottery.
Why is it so difficult for me?
I think, if I was raised in a household where the father was the king or the mother was the queen, I might have an easier time. If my father called the shots and my mother was the stereotypical 50s mom who had dinner ready every night when my father walked through the door and my sister met him with his slippers and I met him with the newspaper, I’d either think that’s the way things were supposed to be or I’d think, “Hell, no.” The first example might have led me to wait hand and foot on my spouse. The second example might have led me to have my spouse wait on me hand and foot. The opposite might be true if my mother called the shots. My parents worked together. My father hung the laundry out when my mother was unable to. My mother would help my father disassemble the lawn mower on the kitchen table. Lion and I are like my parents in that respect.
It never occurred to me to tell Lion what to do. It never occurred to me to change him. I’m sure there are things he does that bug me and vice versa. He’s gotten me to eat somewhat better. I took him in his first camper. In retrospect, that was a terrible idea. We wouldn’t have the camper we have now if it weren’t for stepping into that camper at a fair. The point is, I was happy with the way things were before domestic discipline. That doesn’t mean I’m unhappy now. I just can’t figure out how to progress any further.
Lion’s idea is that I should punish him if he even thinks about looking at me sideways. His theory is that I can’t spank him too much. I don’t have a theory, but I’m willing to give his a try. I think. I mean, I say I will, but we know how that goes. If I was drooling at the thought of his breaking a rule so I could swat him, there wouldn’t be a problem. I could manufacture reasons. It would be so much easier if I were wired that way. For now, I’ll try to short-circuit my brain so I can punish him more.