|Photo supplied by May More, who enjoys a spot of home baking. She suggested I make this a standalone post.|
Maybe I should get her to edit all of my posts since they can get quite long? The Waffle Story was originally here.
There was something that I said on Monday that might have come across wrong. In What happens when I don't get enough sex? I said:
#12: ....The reason I will be mad at her is because she would have fobbed me off with the promise of 'not now, later' and I fell for it.I'm fully aware that my wife is not my sexbot and is not required to have sex with me just because I want to. But... well...
And then the day comes when one Saturday morning you ask "are we making waffles?" and she says "Nah, maybe later" so you skip breakfast thinking you'll both be enjoying waffles for a late brunch. By lunchtime you're really hungry but your wife then says "I don't feel like making waffles - maybe I'll make some tomorrow morning." But of course on Sunday morning she still doesn't feel like making waffles.
The same thing happens the following weekend, except on Sunday she sleeps in, gets up late and tells you she's going to make you some waffles. You tell her you don't want any because you woke up early and was really really hungry for waffles so you made them yourself. And then ate them all up and now you're full and couldn't possibly eat any more. So then your wife gets all pouty and says she would have made you waffles if only you'd asked, since she had no idea you wanted waffles so badly.
And then she goes back to her room and looks at pictures of other men eating waffles all day on her iPad, imagining what it would be like to make waffles for those guys. Pretty soon she spends way too much time on that iPad imagining waffle brunches with all those men. She's creating such lavish menus in her head (strawberries! whipped cream! chocolate syrup!) that she has no desire to make actual waffles because that just means the kitchen is messy afterwards - and is it really worth the fuss?
Okay, maybe I'm over exaggerating a little. My wife does still make me waffles from time time. Just not like she used to. Which doesn't have to be a problem. I can make my own waffles - if only she'd stop saying she's going make them later for me...
(Yes, waffles is a metaphor for sex)