Once upon a time there was an exhausted mom.
With the risk of oversharing here I’m going to be real blunt with you people. Especially since you’ve asked for this.
Me and my most precious husband finally got a date night one evening a few years back. The kids were in bed when we came home. Their own beds might I add. Mom (my babysitter of choice at the time) left us with a quiet house and went on her way.
Now parents, you know exactly what this means?! It’s sexy time.
We pull out the magic treasure box we hide in the top of the closet and get down and dirty. (Too much? Sorry, you asked for it.)
After our 3 minutes sexcapade we are both really ready to just pass out because we know the tiny terrorists will be up at the ass crack of dawn. So we shower and hop in bed.
Let’s jump to the next day.
Normal day really, chaos of a breakfast, slap fights between and during every activity, a few sharpie stained kids, the usual.
I decided I needed a mental health minute on the back porch after an all out brawl over a pair of donut leggings not being clean.
It was peaceful. So many cigarettes were smoked in silence. Pure bliss. Until…
Here comes a kid.
What is she holding?
Why does she look so confused?
And here it is. In all of its glory.
She found the box… The one I forgot to put in the tip top of the closet because I was so tired.
Out comes Ainsley Mae with a condom blown like a balloon to its full capacity.
Why is this so slimy? Who puts balloons in wrappers like this? Why do you have so many of these things? 🤦♀️
JESUS, if I’ve ever needed you, I need you now.
I explain to her that they are not balloons and they are private for me and dad. And they are hidden so no one gets hurt.
That obviously isn’t the answer she was looking for, so I just broke down and told her it’s to keep us from having any more offspring like her.
That sufficed, and off she went on her next big adventure.
The babies are asleep. Ainsley has decided to shower with her barbies, and the big kid is playing his guitar as loudly as possible. I can make a run for it… Back to the porch I go. It’s my safe place. My. Bubble. My woosah.
I hear Ainsley yell she needs a towel, so I go throw one in her direction. She’s always doing something fancy with her hair so I didn’t think anything of her taking a little extra time. Until…
“Hey mom, I LOVE this new hair gel you bought!”
Bring me the hair gel. I didn’t buy you any new hair gel child, what in the actual efff have you gotten into now?
You guys. It’s Astroglide.
Read it again. Yes, you got it.
My child has slathered her head in lube and she is THRILLED with the outcome.
What do I even say?
Well I’ll tell you what I said.
“Honey, that looks amazing! I am so glad you love it. I picked it just for you.”
I realize now that I had missed it when I scrambled to get the contents of my treasure box put away before she noticed anything that may vibrate or tingle.
So, being the perfect mother I am, I let her continue to use her lube hair gel for as long as she liked. It did after all do some great things to her normally dry, frizzy curls.
Lesson here… Hide your stuff. Then hide it again. And don’t forget where you’ve hidden it. But also don’t be too tired to not hide it, or your secrets will be made public.
Adding here also: This was found three days later in my driveway. I acted like I didn’t know what it was, or where it came from, but I did know. It came from my treasure box and these fools and their trickery must have snatched it before I noticed.
Until next time…