His office just got a little more cluttered

So, I thought he was kidding.

Maybe that was my denial speaking.

For weeks, Aaron has been talking about some sort of  structured "tally" system.  Some visual aide to remind me (and him) of things between sessions. He gets these strange ideas in his head when he talks to other HOHs.  

Mental note: Keep him away from the rest of the menfolk. The  track record hasn't been pretty thus far.

It's always been an open table discussion when it comes to developing concepts in this crazy DD lifestyle of ours.  Key word there is discussion.  The DECISION of course, ultimately is his.

Anywhoo, when he brought up this idea, I foolishly showed a bit of enthusiasm.  He must have caught me in mid-bite of a chocolate bar.  Or maybe it was in the middle of a Grey's Anatomy episode. I urge anyone to attempt to have a decent conversation with those lovely doctors running around half naked on your television.  I mean, come on. Owen? Yes please and thank you.  My two cents in the matter probably consisted of a "uh huh", followed by a "sounds great" hinted with a  "Can you let me get back to my show? Someone is bound to have sex in this episode" tone.

Yet again, I digress.

So the next time he brought it up, the conversation went more like this:

"So, Monica,  we're getting the whiteboard today."

 "Whatever are you talking about sweetest, dearest husband of mine?"  (Verbatim-ish)

"We discussed this.  The whiteboard. For my office. For rules and infractions.  Remember?"

I did remember, vaguely.  But worked my Monica magic and played dumb, in hopes him talking through it one more time would change his mind.

No dice.

We are now a proud new owner of a whiteboard.   

For a few days, I pretended it didn't exist.  I would walk in his office and refuse to make eye contact with it. (Yes, I personify inanimate objects, it's part of my charm).  

Then I started my attempt to befriend it.  A few doodles as I was in there straightening up.  A heart, a generic smiley face calmed my nerves about the whole situation.  It wasn't SO bad.  It's just a little whiteboard. 

It wasn't until the morning after a impromptu "we're taking care of this now" session that the white-board's purpose came to fruition.

Infractions, with consequences, scrawled out in my husband's writing for the world (or our cats) to see.

Sneaky, that man is.

I went to Aaron for a bit of protesting. 

"What if someone comes to our house unannounced?  You can't just have this kind of stuff displayed." 

"Behave and you won't have to worry about it now will you?"

He's working with a bit of fuzzy logic I think.

And that whiteboard is a traitor.