30 Days of Submission/Being Little

Day 11: Do you include service as part of your expectations of your submission?  How do you define service?  What does it mean to you?  If not, what is it about the concept of service that is not for you?

Ummmmmm, well, a cousin of mine once told me I was “the laziest white woman on this earth”, and this is hilarious in that that particular cousin is now an out and proud gay man, and his boyfriend says he (my cousin) is in fact “the laziest white woman on this earth” (yes, they’re two bitchy queens).

I’m what my youngest sister affectionately (or at least I think it’s affectionately) refers to as a “princess”)…No, I don’t wear a crown (although I do own several hats that I think are stylish), I don’t preside over a principality.  But I also DO NOT ever ever EVER shovel snow, carry my own luggage (seriously, that time I traveled to Italy for six weeks by myself I was SHOCKED when I arrived in Rome and there wasn’t a person there waiting to take my bags, and YES, I had many bags); if I’m a dinner guest in someone’s home, when the meal is over, I won’t offer to help clear the dishes, NO, I’ll sit back in my chair (or step outside) and light a cigarette.  Yup, laziest white woman on this earth.

When in a relationship with a man, I make an attempt, a very great effort, to be less selfish.  If I hear a zipper unzip and a deep baritone voice say “Daddy needs it”, I’m happy to perform that brand of service.  Or if I get swatted on the ass and told to “get me a sandwich and a beer”, yeah, I move my ass as fast as I can.  But will the day come when he comes home and I go, “Surprise, I’ve cleaned the entire house, reorganized the closets, AND rearranged the contents of the pantry in alphabetical order, ALL WITHOUT BEING ASKED TO DO SO!” oh hell no.  It’s not that I think I’m too good to serve, it’s that I’m a princess/the laziest white woman on this earth.  Or rather, I’m a princess when you like me and want to do stuff to me, and I’m the laziest white woman on this earth when you come home to find the laundry not done, the dinner not prepared, and me sprawled out like a beached whale, on Tumblr when I should have been cooking, washing, and doing what I was supposed to do.

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