What if playing with rubber duckies ISN’T just for littles?
If you give a little a stuffy,
she’s going to ask for a big, soft blanket.
If you give her a big, soft blanket,
she’s probably going to want to take a nice nap.
If you let her take a nice nap,
she’s going to want you to tuck her in.
If you go to tuck her in,
she’s going to ask for a bedtime story, maybe two or three,
so you’ll go get one of your books to read.
She’ll want to see the pictures.
when she sees the pictures,
she’ll probably want to draw one of her own, so you’ll need to get paper and crayons.
When she draws her own picture,
she’ll want to hang it up on the fridge.
looking at the fridge will make her realize she’s hungry, so she’s going to want a snack.
When you find some chocolate chip cookies,
she’ll want a glass of milk to quench her thirst.
When she finishes her chocoate chip cookies and milk,
she’ll be sleepy from gobbling so many cookies,
so she’s going to want a nap.
When she goes to take a nap,
she’ll want her big, soft blanket.
and if she gets her big, soft blanket,
She’s going to want her stuffy, too.
She stamps her foot and says, “I am here, and I will not be quiet.” She wishes her domain run with a certain discipline. A certain grace breezing across her lands (or at least her side of the bed.) She does not care for chores, especially doing dishes, and she doesn’t like to wake up early. But, of course, all princesses must stay humble by reminding themselves of how their citizens live (and so she does do laundry and wipes down surfaces and even cleans bathrooms, ugh.)
She is a gracious princess and hostess, however. Without that quality, she is nothing but a spoiled brat (and not the fun kind). She is a princess because of her state of being, not because she posseses wealth (although that often helps), but she does want to give (it’s just sometimes she still feels like Cinderella when she was the pauper, not the princess).
She tries her best to be a benevolent ruler, drawing people towards her with a natural charm. She may get impatient at times- even much of the time- but she mostly just wants people to be kind and loving and to stop fighting over Every. Single. Little. Thing. She has no time for drama, there are too many problems- not only of the world, but of her friends– in desperate need of attention.
She is a child at heart, but she is far more than that. She likes to wrap herself in warm blankets to be safe, and she carries her precious stuffed animal with her in public and pretends it is a mascot for her group or her daughter’s stuffed animal that she happens to be carrying, because, well, you know how kids are (in this way, nobody suspects what it means to her).
She needs to be reminded of what she has to do, but once she is told, she generally follows through. Except when she is tired or hungry or when she just doesn’t feel like doing something. She doesn’t color (not every little enjoys crayons), but she does love to make crafts and she sings songs to herself when she thinks nobody is listening (or when she feels safe).
She will play any game with you, or invent one of her own. Don’t worry if you don’t understand the rules. So long as you play with her, she will be perfectly content and do her utmost to keep you entertained. She will, no doubt, provide you with constant amusement.
She wants to be comfortably herself, no matter what, and she will happily do what makes you happy, so long as it doesn’t harm her own well being. She thinks the world could be much simpler and pleasant, if only everyone didn’t grow up so fast.
She likes to push things off the bed, including, sometimes, her master. But she means no harm by it. She prefers scratches to whips and snuggles to beatings. A spanking might elicit a yelp, or it might scare her off entirely.
She will purr and curl around you, no matter where you might be. If you dare to lie down on a couch or a chair, be prepared for the Kitten to leap out of nowhere to drape herself across you and the couch. Once you begin petting her, however, be warned. Stopping the petting may result in a sudden Kitten Explosion. Keep petting her for the next ten years, to be on the safe side.
She requires several hours of sleep at a time. She might be the sort that is okay with water, and she may venture from the bed to various bodies of water (bathtub, hot tub, outdoor springs) when time and ability permits. If she is an outdoor Kitten, she will go outside from time to time. If she is an indoor Kitten, understand that it may take a great deal of effort for the Kitten to get dressed and Go. Into. The. Scary. Outdoors.
She will be your loyal companion till death do you part (or until you stop feeding and watering her). She will always be there for a hug, unless she is in an antisocial mood. She will keep the mice away. And attract other, cute Kittens and sometimes Puppies. She will always be there to hold you at night (or at least be held.)
Is your partner any of the above? Or all three? Share your stories!
Last night I didn’t want to go to sleep. I felt a streak of stubbornness (“I am never going to sleep ever again!”). M told me, “Time for bed, Kitten.” And I went. Maybe a bit reluctantly, but I climbed in and crawled up to him.
The next morning, he praises me,
“Good kitten,” for snuggling so well against him. He was up a lot of the night and he appreciates it.
An hour or so after he’s left for meetings, I’m still at our hotel and I wake up. I look at the clock and see there’s a half hour until breakfast is over. I know he always likes me to eat breakfast. Usually, at home, I don’t. But we almost always eat breakfast together at the hotel– and since he was nice enough to let me sleep longer, I know he’ll like it if I make sure to eat on my own.
I don’t want to eat anything. But I know he wants me to do this and I want to hear “Good kitten,” when he comes back. As soon as I know what time it is, I sleepily- but without a beat- roll out of bed. I’m not worried. I know it takes me ten minutes to shower. Five minutes to get dressed. Five minutes to quickly check Fetlife (I am good and I wait until I’m all ready to go before I do this). This leaves ten minutes to get to the breakfast room. I leave with seven minutes to go. Perfect.
I assemble my breakfast.
Juice, a smoothie, and a small waffle. I know it isn’t much, but if this were the same hotel in Europe, I’d have organized a huge feast of bagel generously smeared with Nutella, a mocha hot chocolate, delicious jams and croissants, fresh presssed juice, maybe a croissant with good cheese and deli meat, smoked salmon… It’s just the breakfasts here aren’t very good. But I eat it, anyway. Because I know I’m supposed to do this for him. And for me.
When I go back upstairs, I pack up the room. I want extra kudos. Even if he doesn’t expect it (and I’m not sure if he does or not), I know we won’t have much time. Maybe this way I’ll even get an extra five minutes of snuggles before we have to get going (and we might not have time, anyway, but at least I’ve put in the effort).
Submission takes many forms.
Sometimes it’s strict, Gorean protocol. Sometimes it’s complicated “scenes” with rope, fire, wax, and an array of scary looking- to the untrained eye- implements. It’s not -always- passive, but it’s not always complicated.
Sometimes it’s just eating a waffle with strawberry jam.
No, I won’t give you my whole cookie!
Call me spoiled, a little, a brat. Do as you please. I am not going to feel bad for only give you part of my cookie. This is my only cookie. It’s very special to me.
I don’t want to give you 100%!
I don’t want to give you everything or be your everything!
I don’t want to spend every waking moment with you!
I DON’T WANT TO GIVE YOU MY WHOLE COOKIE.
Okay, so you need more. Somehow, some way. I don’t even know that you know what that means. You won’t tell me. You think I should just know, intuitively, but I don’t. I think I’m giving, or at least offering, quite a lot.
Maybe I’m wrong. I’m offering you affection, a listening ear, adventures, quality time with just the two of us, just to list a few– everything I’ve been told is good and meaningful in a relationship PLUS a few extras.
Is that not enough to want to spend some intimate time with me? Give me a bit of commitment and priority? I’m not even asking for your whole cookie; it isn’t as if I’m being a hypocrite.
Do you need every last crumb of mine?
If you do, I’m sorry. I feel bad. But I can’t do it. I can’t give you all of my cookie. I need a little bit that’s just mine. I am very good at sharing. I’m one of the best! But sharing doesn’t mean taking everything from me, does it?
Although it’s funny that you accepted such a little crumb from the last person to whom you gave your whole cookie and they just consumed it and left you empty…but a quarter of MINE, upfront, isn’t enough to merit anything at all from you. But, anyway, that’s irrelevant and I shouldn’t have mentioned it.
I won’t give you more, just because you demand it. I will give you exactly much as I CHOOSE to give. I might give someone else a bigger piece of my cookie. That is my right. You don’t like it?
Fine. Find someone else. I’m not losing anything.
…oh, you left. That’s sad. Now I’m sad. But— at least I have this yummy cookie. And these other lovely people with whom to share that delicious delicacy.
*takes a deep breath and recovers*
Yes. I still have my cookie. Plenty of it. And I always will, because, let me reiterate for those in the back:
I. Will. Never. Give. You. My. Whole.
(Yes, this is what happens when I let my “little” out…don’t worry, she’s worked herself up into a state of exhaustion and is now happily napping.)
I never said I am the eternal optimist. Sometimes my tiny turtle mind says, “Hey, little dude, you’re flat on your back and you can’t get up!”