I Say Potato, You Say Pot-ah-to

Lion was upset that I said he whines. He insists he doesn’t whine. I guess we have a difference of opinion. And perhaps a different definition of whining. He does not have the nasal twang type of whine. He does, however, repeat himself like a three-year-old sometimes: I smell the smoke. Can’t you smell the smoke? Look over there; you can’t see the mountains because of the smoke. The sky looks orange because of the smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke.

When we went to a concert by one of my favorite artists, the sound was bad. Lion spent half the time complaining about the bad sound and the other half making fun of the people around us who were dancing and singing along. There’s nothing I could do about the sound, and people dance and sing at concerts. They are enjoying themselves. I was singing along too.

We recently went to see a comedian that I like. Admittedly, he wasn’t as funny as I remembered him being, but he was still funny. Lion told me he didn’t think he was very funny. And told me again. And again. By the end of the act, before he came back for the encore, we left. He really wasn’t as funny as I’d hoped, and I couldn’t justify making Lion sit through any more of it. Besides, we beat the traffic.

To me, these are examples of whining. He wants something. He wants something now. He wants to make sure I know he wants something now. Would it be any different if it was a kid? I want candy. Why can’t I have candy? You never let me have any candy. I promise I’ll be good if you give me candy. I wish I could have candy. John’s mother lets him have candy. Whining. So we’ll work on that.

We did better last night in the horny Lion department. He said he wasn’t very, but I managed to convince him otherwise fairly quickly. After I edged him a few times I was actually considering giving him an orgasm. Two things stopped me: it hadn’t been that long since his last orgasm and he hadn’t been that horny. But I did want to give him one. But he’s got another week to wait. Damn. I made us wait. Afterwards, he said he would have been perfectly fine if I had decided to give him an orgasm. Whata guy. Take one for the team and all that.

I just realized that I’ve learned to control my urges to give him an orgasm whenever I feel like it. Maybe there’s hope for him to control his urges in the whining department. Fingers crossed.

What do you think?