“NOT THE BEDSIDE DRAWER!”

So several months ago, a few girlfriends and I had a day out in the city. What did we do on this day out in the city you ask? Well, we had an extremely enlightening day mulling around the Taboo Sex show exhibit.

I saw things my naive self had never even dreamed of in regards to bedroom provisions, and I felt as though I learnt a little something and I even got some free samples of some interesting flavoured lube and chocolate body paint.

“Well that could be fun!” I thought upon arriving home, but instead of using any of it, I shoved my little bag of goodies in the bedside table as this is where things of this nature typically go.

And then I forgot about the lot of it. That was, until a few days ago…

I am cleaning the house in preparation for some upcoming parties, so I am doing a good intense job of it. I am wholly involved in my cleaning and have placed the children in my bedroom to watch a movie.

I haven’t heard them for a while, and any parent knows that when the kids get quiet it means;

 

A- There are badly hurt.

or

B- They have got into something.

 

Panic becomes me as I briskly half-walk half-run toward the boudoir.

At first I see Lars, I immediately notice the look of guilt that is painted all over his face. Something gooey glimmers off his little hands. He knows they are doing something wrong and is trying his damndest to play it cool. He does a terrible job of it.

My second glance moves towards Sophie. At first I see her face is covered in some sort of brown swathe, I think it may be poop and I begin to gag a little. But then, then she begins placing the brown stuff in her mouth and gobbling it up like it is….

OH FOR THE LIOVE OF GOD…NO!

On my third take of the situation, everything becomes disturbingly clear. There sprawled on my bed is a bouquet of individually wrapped lube packs. All of them open and smeared upon my duvet like some kind of sadistic joke, a vibrator is humming somewhere between the bedside table and the bed and Sophie has her hands embedded in a jar of ‘erotic body chocolate’.

THIS CAN’T ACTUALLY BE HAPPENING…

“Mama we found chocy!” The smile that gleams through her chocolaty face is so upsetting that I have to turn away.

“Mom, what is this stuff…It’s so slippery!” Lars asks me while he tries to wrangle a pack of lube, attempting to keep it within the confines of his little four year old hands.

Okay Lindsay you must deal with this. As much as you’d like to walk away and pretend it is not happening you HAVE to deal with this.  This horrid chain of events. The fact that your children are currently consuming sex chocolate, playing with lube and more than likely have been handling your vibrator…That of which is still MIA aside from its droning buzz that is currently drilling into the back of your mind.

Yes, it is time to deal with it.

And so that is what I do. I clean up the girl, wipe off the boys hands, establish the vibrators locale and place everything back in its rightful spot.

As well as explain to Lars that NO condoms are not balloons and I will NOT blow one up for him.

Before deciding that I will never speak of this instance again (aside from the blog that I HAVE to write about it) I tell the children;

“This drawer is Mama’s special drawer…We do not go in this drawer. From now on, Mama’s bedside table is OFF LIMITS!”

Advertisements

3 thoughts on ““NOT THE BEDSIDE DRAWER!”

  1. I had to stifle my laughter so as not to wake the hubby and kid. Hilarious! I have a somewhat similar tale except this one involved my then 3-year-old playing with a rubber penis I kept in “mommy’s special drawer”. The fake penis was just a gag gift and after that instance I decided to let it go/sneak it into the trashcan. Love your writing, story telling, and humor!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s