Dan started out my day with a few good spanks with the wooden kitchen spoon I just bought. We’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t been getting spanked as much and my bottom was surprisingly tender after just a few spanks. Either that or he was really swinging it!
It was definitely ouchie. I may have to buy a couple more of those spoons though. I can’t stand cooking with any utensil I get spanked with. There’s just something wrong about it but I can’t put it into words. It just feels wrong somehow! LOL
So last night the subject of the wooden spoon came up — I think I threatened to leave the bedroom and go get it, in response to some minor brattishness — and Bethie again bemoaned the fact that I had despoiled her cooking spoon and she’d never be able to use it now. I laughed and made light of the problem, thinking (as I have all along) that she was kidding. But it quickly became clear that she was serious. Incredulous, I explored her objections, which were (and I am not making this up):
1) She was concerned that during the course of a few high-velocity taps, the wooden spoon would have become contaminated with “butt oil” from her skin.
2) She was concerned that because wood is porous, the “butt oil” would have permeated the wood and will in future resist all cleansing action by detergents during the normal dishwashing process, remaining available to contaminate subsequent cooking projects.
3) Upon being pressed to define the health hazards of a few molecules of human skin oils that might survive into a future batch of food, she abandoned (grudgingly and without concessions) the “butt oil” objections and moved briskly on to Plan B. To wit, she claimed concern about bacteria, arguing that her butt area is likely rich in harmful bacteria due to its proximity to various organs of elimination.
4) When I pointed out that her standards of personal hygiene are very high, so high as to make broad-region butt bacteria an insignificant risk, she denied this. Rubbing my fingers all over her butt and then licking them, oddly enough, did not seem to reassure her. Indeed, she covered her face in her hands. Informing her that her butt oil is very tasty did not help. Really, it didn’t. For some unknown reason, she began to whimper at this point.
5) When I pointed out that we wash dishes in hot soapy water precisely because bacteria do not survive this treatment, she again raised the special porosity of wood as a risk factor. When I pointed out that wooden cooking spoons commonly languish in sinks full of dirty dishes, where bacterial counts are likely considerably higher than they are on her well-washed and lotion-reinforced butt, and yet she has no qualms about washing such spoons and re-using them in the cooking process, she was unmoved. Her unassailable counter-argument? Wait for it: “That’s different.”
What do you think, folks? Do you keep one set of kosher spoons at your house for spanking, and another for cooking? Or is it “Be damned to the butt oils, full speed ahead!” in your kitchen?