I told Master the other day that I was considering making a list
of hard limits, including, but not limited to, tummy raspberries and
cold feet placed on my warm body parts.
He patted me on the head with a great big Cheshire cat grin on his face and said "Knock yourself out".
Then after I'd written it, he said I didn't have enough, and needed to come up with some more, so here they are:
-Making me cook salmon in the coffee maker. Never done it, never want to. Because, ewwww.
-Having to chop/fry mushrooms. Forget eating them. Also because ewwwww.
-Not having a snow plow/snow blower. Isn't this a must-have for every slave in a northern clime?
-Being taunted with pie. Or donuts. That's just mean.
Why do I get the sneaking suspicion I'm writing a to-do list for him?
He patted me on the head with a great big Cheshire cat grin on his face and said "Knock yourself out".
Then after I'd written it, he said I didn't have enough, and needed to come up with some more, so here they are:
-Making me cook salmon in the coffee maker. Never done it, never want to. Because, ewwww.
-Having to chop/fry mushrooms. Forget eating them. Also because ewwwww.
-Not having a snow plow/snow blower. Isn't this a must-have for every slave in a northern clime?
-Being taunted with pie. Or donuts. That's just mean.
Why do I get the sneaking suspicion I'm writing a to-do list for him?
No comments:
Post a Comment