So I’m hijacking this Tuesday since I missed my post from last week. *sheepish grin that I’m hoping everyone thinks is cute* I travelled to Chicago for a wedding and had car lag because a sista made “The Drive”! Ten &^%&# hours! Thanks to Munchies, Cherry Coke and Wal-Dryl it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been but… *sigh* Good Lawd! It was looong! I did get to see Harpo Studios (Hi, Oprah!). Aaaand I had myself a funnel cake at the Navy Pier! Below are pics of me at Harpo and me trying to avoid my hubby while I stuff my face with funnel cake. Ah. Good times!
Well my mom took care of the kids for us…and you would think after my last fiasco I would’ve learned my lesson. But, alas, no, I didn’t. You have to understand this important factor or this story will be for naught: My mother is the kind of person who must stay busy. She’ll come over to visit and, by the time I come out of the bathroom, a load of laundry is in the washer and the living room is rearranged. Not that I mind! By all means, far be it for me to hinder whatever floats her boat, right? I read and drink coffee to relax, she cleans. So on the way back I’m all, “At least I’m returning to a clean house” because she’s had days, not hours! And I was right! The house looked gaw-geous!! The couch and entertainment center had switched places, I had new plants and clean clothes in the closet. I told her she needs to start a new career as a professional organizer. That woman could straighten up a hoard! Uh, not that I’m a hoarder…that’s not what I’m saying….
Anyhoo, she had it shining and smelling like a lemon-scented Taj Mahal! Now there’s a rule with my mother that I should have learned and remembered from last summer: Every nook and cranny will get cleaned and organized. Ergo, if you don’t want her seeing something, lock it up! So we’re back, everything’s cool…then my husband comes into the room and tosses a purple, silicon phallic toy—okay, damn! A dildo! He tosses my purple dildo on the bed. The one that has the little dolphin head and bill to tickle that special place? Yeah, that one. He tells me, “You forgot something.” Apparently my mother found it, thought it was my daughter’s and threw it in her toy box. My husband passed by her room to find her kneeling in front of the box, wagging it back and forth with a frown. She turned to look at him standing in the doorway and whined, “Daddy, I don’t get how this works.” Lord, take me now to that big upper room in the sky!!
I learned two things last week:
1. My mother must not be getting any because this makes two times that she’s come across sex toys and have no idea what she’s handling. First, the cock ring is a bracelet now the dildo is aa toy—literally.
2. I need to get rid of all my stash because obviously I am not old or responsible enough to clean my room and put my toys up!
I don’t know which was more eventful, the trip to Chicago or the what awaited me back home…