. . . but you wont get anywhere with that attitude missy!”

Tom had the upper hand. He was hardly ever in this position. Shelly glared at him with a look that he was all too familiar with. But he was safe . . for now. He was condemned to pain, but had to relish in the moment.

“Tell you what Tom. I’m willing to give you total amnesty here. I’ll completely forget about the last five minutes. ALL OF IT !” The way his wife smiled made him suspicious of her wording.

“Shelly, Shelly, Shelly. That’s a crap deal for me. How about breakfast in bed for a week, that’s totally fair.”

Ten seconds passed as they stared at each other in silence. Tom lost his confidence as he sobered from his short lived power trip. A bead of sweat formed on his brow and trickled down his cheek as he re-considered.

“You amnesty offer still stand?” His voice now void of bass and shaky.

“Yeah . . sure.” She said nonchalantly.

He applied the vegetable oil, and helped her out of the porcelain throne vowing to lower the seat from now on.