Confessions of an Instagram Widower

Are you sitting comfortably?  Good, then I shall begin. Once upon a time I had the most wonderful and attentive wife and sub. But then came along her Camera. Now I have to confess I encouraged her at first. I mean after all I got the benefits of all the sexy pictures she took and she took a lot! So I bought her lenses and tripods and accessories and software and a giant monitor to edit it all on, and life was good. Sure she spent a lot of time taking walks out in the world to get that perfect image of a nude woman with mist rising from the lake (Well, what passes for a lake in the UK anyway) or of the sunlight shining down through the leaves to dapple her body in light and shadow. I mostly didn’t even mind being the camera monkey (for those moments when someone has to press the button on the camera because the remote would be in the picture) from time to time.  Really it was all good, she would ask my opinion on edits she had made and we would debate the crop or shading of a shot, but we did it together, as a team.

But this all has led to a dark place that I never anticipated. Instagram ( I blame Hy) and now she is learning the ins and outs of her new world, and I wouldn’t mind. Except she will get lost in her phone. To the point where just a few minutes ago I had an extended question that I asked her. I explained it all and then stopped and waited for her answer.

And waited.

And waited.

I looked over to see that she was lost in filters and cropping and watermarking pictures on her phone, for Instagram.

So this is my warning to you all you husbands and partners out there, when your heretofore compliant and docile significant other (pffft I can’t even type that with a straight face) says.

“I think I will give this Instagram thing a try”

Well, the only advice I can really give is to make like Professor Harold Hill and start a Boys Band, right here in River City.

Michael

BTW my love, maybe I could use the picture you were editing for Instagram in my post?