If you read my previous message, you know I lost a bet with my wife (yet again, I know ...) because Ohio State couldn't beat the spread against Navy Saturday. Since we both went to Ohio State and we at the game Saturday, we made the stakes extra high. I was hoping for sure this would be the best she lost ...
Well, as usual, I lost. Here's the aftermath of the bet (one of the conditions of the bet was the loser had to post here so the entire community would get the chance to experience the loser's complete humiliation).
1) I had to ride the entire way home with my bare feet up on the dashboard for all the world to see. This may have been the worst part. While I am a foot guy, I hate strangers looking at my feet. Since I love feet so much, to me it was like driving around naked. My wife, of course, would pull up next to other motorists on the interstate and drive right next to them for as long as possible, so everyone could see. Several times, she honked the horn so the other drivers would look over. Had I won, this would have been her.
2) She got to paint my toenails any color she wanted, which I have to now keep for the entire holiday weekend. See the attached picture. Since she painted my toenails, but the way, she's also been calling me "my pretty princess" every time she looks at my feet. We are going to a family cookout tomorrow for Labor Day. As a part of the bet, I have to wear sandals. Wonderful! Her entire family gets to see my painted toenails.
3) I have to give her foot rubs on demand. Normally, not something I mind doing. Except as a part of the bet, I have to do it no matter where we are, no matter how public the venure. Late Saturday night, I was rubbing her feet at the grocery store. Today we went to a baseball game. Guess who spent three innings rubbing her feet? Plenty of stares, I assure you.
4) The ticklng. Saturday night and again tonight, I had to submit to 30 minute tickling sessions. Again, she wrapped me in blankets and used a feather duster and her fingernails. She also did a little artwork on the bottoms of my feet. Again, see attached picture. Much like usual, she made me smell both my own socks and her socks while I was wrapped up and immobile, then stuffed the socks in my mouth. My wife, by the way, is a merciless tickler. And she laughs at me and mocks me the entire time. She loves going between my toes with the feather duster.
Well, that's been my weekend ... and I still have a full day tomorrow to look forward to. If Ohio State were a little better at football, she'd be the one writing this and talking about her humiliation. But no, for the third time in a row, it's me. Sorry guys! I feel like I'm letting down men everywhere 😡
I'm not going to quit, however. I figure I'm due, right?
Oh yeah, one more part of the bet (I have to write this): "I am my wife's helpless tickle slave. She is superior to me. I have the most ticklish piggies in the entire world. Oh how my tootsies wriggle and I giggle when my beautiful queen of a wife is pulling feathers between my toes!"
(She wrote that herself for me to put on her. Nice touch, huh?)
Well, as usual, I lost. Here's the aftermath of the bet (one of the conditions of the bet was the loser had to post here so the entire community would get the chance to experience the loser's complete humiliation).
1) I had to ride the entire way home with my bare feet up on the dashboard for all the world to see. This may have been the worst part. While I am a foot guy, I hate strangers looking at my feet. Since I love feet so much, to me it was like driving around naked. My wife, of course, would pull up next to other motorists on the interstate and drive right next to them for as long as possible, so everyone could see. Several times, she honked the horn so the other drivers would look over. Had I won, this would have been her.
2) She got to paint my toenails any color she wanted, which I have to now keep for the entire holiday weekend. See the attached picture. Since she painted my toenails, but the way, she's also been calling me "my pretty princess" every time she looks at my feet. We are going to a family cookout tomorrow for Labor Day. As a part of the bet, I have to wear sandals. Wonderful! Her entire family gets to see my painted toenails.
3) I have to give her foot rubs on demand. Normally, not something I mind doing. Except as a part of the bet, I have to do it no matter where we are, no matter how public the venure. Late Saturday night, I was rubbing her feet at the grocery store. Today we went to a baseball game. Guess who spent three innings rubbing her feet? Plenty of stares, I assure you.
4) The ticklng. Saturday night and again tonight, I had to submit to 30 minute tickling sessions. Again, she wrapped me in blankets and used a feather duster and her fingernails. She also did a little artwork on the bottoms of my feet. Again, see attached picture. Much like usual, she made me smell both my own socks and her socks while I was wrapped up and immobile, then stuffed the socks in my mouth. My wife, by the way, is a merciless tickler. And she laughs at me and mocks me the entire time. She loves going between my toes with the feather duster.
Well, that's been my weekend ... and I still have a full day tomorrow to look forward to. If Ohio State were a little better at football, she'd be the one writing this and talking about her humiliation. But no, for the third time in a row, it's me. Sorry guys! I feel like I'm letting down men everywhere 😡
I'm not going to quit, however. I figure I'm due, right?
Oh yeah, one more part of the bet (I have to write this): "I am my wife's helpless tickle slave. She is superior to me. I have the most ticklish piggies in the entire world. Oh how my tootsies wriggle and I giggle when my beautiful queen of a wife is pulling feathers between my toes!"
(She wrote that herself for me to put on her. Nice touch, huh?)
