Where is my John Wayne?

It happened on Saturday afternoon. Harry and I were out Christmas shopping and my mood was rapidly deteriorating, as it generally does when I have to be around large groups of people not of my choosing. I was already feeling vaguely frustrated with Harry because he claimed that one of the main purposes of the outing was that he wanted to get some ideas of what to get me for Christmas, but every time I paused to look at something he wandered off, generally in the direction of the store's exit so that I had to rush to catch up to him, whether I was ready to leave or not.

We wandered into Bath and Body Works because he wanted to pick out a gift for my younger sister (she and I share a townhouse into which he will be moving in two weeks). After informing me that he would also be buying a gift for my youngest sister, who he only met once for thirty seconds but whose house (my father's) we'll be visiting on Christmas day, he proceeded to pick out these ridiculously overpriced gift baskets. I scoffed at how much of his hard-earned money he was planning to spend on two spoiled brats who wouldn't appreciate it at all and he replied authoritatively, "I always spend $xx.00 on presents for people."

A little history on Harry: he is constantly making ridiculous proclamations of that nature. "I always do this," or, "I always do that," like he's some hallowed institution with long-standing traditions and policies that must be adhered to. It borders on the absurd at times and makes him sound foolish, and it makes me want to wring his neck. That being said, however, it's also pretty absurd to get seriously annoyed at one's boyfriend for trying to be nice to one's sisters. I can't remember exactly which straw broke the camel's back, but finally I blurted out harshly, "Oh, just shut up and leave me alone!" The second it was out of my mouth I regretted it, and in my peripheral vision I saw a couple of heads whip around, presumably in reaction to my tone.

I stalked off to the other side of the store and ignored Harry when he tried to get my attention a few minutes later. He acted like nothing had happened, but a part of me wishes he'd dragged me out of the store or at least threatened me with, "Just wait till we get home..." We split up shortly after that so that he could shop for me, and as I wandered aimlessly through stores and then brooded over a peppermint mocha at Starbucks I couldn't help thinking about what ought to happen. I even promised myself that I'd tell him, maybe even bring him the new bath brush and say, "Look, I behaved terribly and I'm sorry and I deserve this." But of course I didn't. When we got home he went downstairs to wrap presents while I got dressed for his company's Christmas party. We had fun at the party and all was well, and when we got home he said to me (rather drunkenly), "If your sister weren't asleep in the next room I'd put you over my knee right now," but he obviously intended it as a prelude to sex with the thinnest veneer of being annoyed at me for letting some random guy give me his phone number. (What was I supposed to do, wad it up in a ball and throw it back at him?! It's not like I'm going to call.) I told him that he ought to give me a real spanking for having been so nasty to him while we were shopping, but it didn't seem to penetrate his liquor-soaked brain and he was all loving and affectionate.

The next morning I got a very sound "playful" spanking that would have had me in tears only the context was all wrong and we were laughing and horsing around the entire time. Why do I have so much trouble with the notion of having a serious talk with Harry about what I need? He's so indulgent of me that I just know if I could make him understand that I need discipline that he would comply, and yet I can't do it. But it's something I genuinely feel is missing in my life, and ultimately if he won't give it to me, I'll probably have to seek it elsewhere. Ugh.