Dad Behaving Badly

It was lovely to have Mistress back in the UCTMW executive suite last night after her Wednesday night sleepover with J. After one of those night's apart it seems like a little "re-union" when we settle back in bed together.

In the morning, I had woken early, went for a bike ride and texted her at around 7:45 am  to "report in" before jumping into the shower.  By the time I popped out of the shower she had responded.

"Engaged, Slave..... will call you later."

I suppressed my impulse to be a wise ass, and respond "But you're already married!", knowing exactly the sort of "engagement" that had her preoccupied. Instead I organized myself for the work day, and we talked on my way to work.

As might be expected, Mistress was a little tired by late afternoon, and the nice weather tempted both of us to leave our offices a little early.  I stopped at our local green market to collect fixings for some mushroom risotto to accommodate our sullen teen, who announced upon her return from Europe that she is now a vegetarian.  It's not easy to find meals that appeal to all of us here when meat is off the table, but it's the thing you do when you try to be a "good Dad", isn't it.

At home, we were quickly off for a bike ride, racing  looming thunderheads. Then back at home, Slave had his first opportunity in more than a day to settle between Mistress's firm thighs for a little pre-dinner delight, an "amuse boche" before the main course.

"Am I a little gamey, Slave?"

After all we had just gotten back from a hot and humid bike ride.

"That's just the way I like you, Mistress...."

After she had been suitably "amused", Slave's plan was to whip up the risotto.

I announced to our picky daughter what I had planned to accommodate her diet and was immediately reprimanded.

"remember, no chicken broth....."

SHIT.  I hadn't considered the broth when I did my meal planning.

"But when your older sister decided she was a vegetarian even she didn't mind chicken broth in the risotto."

"I'm a vegetarian, Dad.... no chicken broth...."

(This said with the tone of Mitt Romney talking to his Mexican yard guy about poorly trimmed hedges, just before firing him).

At that she announced that she would just go out to dinner (on our tab of course), rather than succumb to my suggestion that maybe she run off to the grocery - where I had just been - to get some f***ing vegetarian broth.

As you might suspect, Slave was just a tad "cross" over this, grabbing my car keys and running this wonderful errand myself.  Mistress called me at the grocery, curious about what had happened to her Slave.

Had I hooked up with the Underground Railroad, and was headed to Canada.  (No Sin, maybe next time).

There's nothing worse than allowing your entitled teenaged daughter drive you into a hissy fit.

In any event, the broth was retrieved and the little journey gave me time to cool my temper.

Obviously, it's time for the nest to be emptied for more than a weekend or a night, isn't it?

So I will leave you with the following video suggesting what might happen here soon if we don't watch out:

Ikeas Commercial