Stop whingeing about brexit

Well a few weeks have passed since the Brexit vote and I hope some of those who voted for it have had time to count the costs, at least in the short term. I certainly have and one immediate impact on my little business is the exchange rate, which means the next order I take from our Spanish supplier, which will be in August, will be 14% more expensive than the last one. What do I do, raise my selling prices? I asked my husband. He said no, grin and bear it for a while. Well I won't be grinning.

Another impact is on our next holiday ... now we don't book holidays in advance, never have done, business has always dictated when we can take breaks, but it is obvious that our next week in the sun is going to be a lot more expensive than our last one. Flights, accommodation and currency are all higher. I threw some ideas at P on the weekend and he said it sounded expensive, find cheaper. I told him I could if he wanted to wait and take a November break in the UK. I won't tell you what his response was. The only good thing, unusually for me, is I bought too much cash currency in euros earlier this year and still have most of it tucked away in my dresser, I haven't told him that but it's probably as much as we would normally spend cash-wise during a week in the Med so that will cushion the cost and no doubt bring a smile to P's face when I reveal it. I'm saving it as a tactical tool to help swing him when we get to decision time.

Meanwhile I'm pretty grumpy about brexit. Our son's new house, which was negotiated pre brexit but won't complete till next month, has apparently dropped several percent, his mortgage deal is locked at what seemed a good rate but who knows what's ahead, the cost of everything imported into the country has obviously increased and has to reflect in sale prices soon as far as I'm concerned.

P had been stoic up to this weekend, listening to my moans and groans tolerantly and agreeing but also pointing out it might only be relatively short term and to give it a break. Easy for him to say but he's not the one charged with getting a holiday lined up early September with no brexit surcharge. Anyway yesterday morning I asked him about mobile roaming charges, car hire and a few other things including whether he'd accept a shared pool, to which he unfortunately said yes no problem, which set me back because I was only using it as another tactic but it backfired on me because actually I'm the one who doesn't like pool sharing because I'm embarrassed not being a good swimmer. Shit.

After a while P put his newspaper aside and told me he'd heard enough whingeing about the effects of brexit, no point getting stressed over it, find solutions and think positively he said. I looked over my glasses, "Oh excellent advice, P, thank you," I said sarcastically, "perhaps you'd care to lead the way." 

He did. He took me by the hand, upstairs to our little office and spanked me. He didn't take my jogging pants off (I hadn't been jogging, I'd been hula-hooping in the garden earlier), he just put me across his knees, pulled our bogey paddle from under the futon and spanked me for about ten minutes, consistently hard with just a few pauses to reaffirm his warning to stop whingeing and getting stressed over something we couldn't do anything about and to concentrate on things we could do something about. After each little pause he asked me if I understood, agreed etc and made me answer, in the affirmative needless to say, before resuming. I asked him to let me up please, I'd got the message, but he wouldn't because, he said, he knew me and he knew the message wouldn't last five minutes if he didn't deliver it properly. So I got quite a spanking and my jogging pants offered no protection at all, if anything they served only to help retain the heat in my backside after I was let up.

There's something about non sexual spankings that's so sexy it's ridiculous. I know I was red faced when I stood up, I could feel my cheeks burning. I hadn't been unclothed, I hadn't felt my husband's cock against my thigh, I hadn't felt myself dampening, I'd just been plainly spanked and hard too. I felt so embarrassed as my husband's eyes sought mine, looking to see if there was any challenge in them. There wasn't.

"Call it stress relief," he said. "Now go downstairs and let's have no more moaning." I turned to leave the office and he spoke again.

"If it's any help," he said, "I've got a load of euros I didn't use last time Stefan came over, I don't need them for anything so you could put them into the holiday calculations, I was going to tell you later, they're in my travel bag, help yourself. Oh and I'll have a mug of tea please, when you're making one."

Well the sneaky devil, hoarding euros, he's as bad as me. I smiled as I went downstairs. Needn't tell him about mine then, I'll reserve them for another time:)

Have a good week.

Ronnie

xx