Aug 13, 2013

A Couple of reasons Kinky People should Not have Kids


               In another Almost and Mostly true Story.

The Year was 2005, and I was in the mood to do some Spring cleaning. I wanted to change out all the winter bedding and put the lovely clean Spring and Summer bedding on my bed.

So as I busy myself with this task, I think to myself, "Eh, why not flip the mattress too." It's good to do that at least once a year. The mattress happened to be King size. A real bugger for just one girl to flip by herself.

So because my 15 year old son just happens to be glued to some play station game in the living room, I ask for his assistance. No big deal, right? Um... NO!

Poor me that day had happened to forget all about Max. Max is, was my large pink silicon dildo who I hadn't played with for a very long time, and he was safely tucked away under the mattress.

So there we are, side by side lifting up this king sized mattress. Just as we get it fully lifted my son's eyes avert to Max in all of his plump, pink glory. He starts laughing hysterically, dropping his hold on the mattress, which of course then made me drop my hold too. 

I was never more mortified than in the moment. "Oh God, I'd forgotten all about that." I say. 

My son's face is red, he's doubled over holding his gut and gasping for air. "This is going to be a great laugh at school Monday," he chokes out. "The guys are going to LOVE this." 

My mind starts thinking of all the embarrassing possibilities. -Parent teacher conferences... His friends coming over to visit... he'll probably tell the neighbor boy too. Oh God! This was going to have a lasting effect. 

TWO Years Later:  

Max found a new home in silicon heaven after that day and it took me a long time to replace him, but I finally did. And one day when my kids were all in school, I pulled Dill from his brand new box. Dill was so much better than Max. Dill had a thick vibrating head and 3 different speed. I was getting wet just putting the batteries in. 

Dill and I were having so much fun that I didn't hear the bus pull up in front of the house. I had forgotten that the kids only had a half day of school that day. Dill was humming along rather loudly and little did I know all 3 of my kids were snickering and laughing outside of my bedroom door. 

"Did I just hear something?" I dialed Dill down and turn him off, looking at the bedroom door. "Oh shit," I see the movement of shuffling feet from under the crack at the bottom of the door, and I can hear giggling. 

What could I do? I stuff Dill under the mattress, compose myself the best I can and reluctantly open my bedroom door. My son still snickering, says, "You need help flipping the mattress?" 

I glare at him and say, "You need some help packing?"

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