Put your toys away, Momma!

Warning: This blog post may contain some sexual smut and innuendo. Dad, uncles, brothers, turn away now. All other readers, please continue at your own discretion. You have been warned, by order of the hubs.

My bloggy friend over at Mommy, for real inspired this post with her lube story. You have to check her out if you haven't found her yet. She's funnier than a fart during school assembly!

This all happened a long time ago - when sex was still just for fun (sort of). i.e. Before the kids.


Back then (over four years ago) we lived in our 400sqft cabin, and we had no storage whatsoever. No garage or outdoor shed - and no access to the attic. We didn't even own a closet or a chest of drawers to hide our junk!

And boy did we have some junk to hide. In hindsight I should have put all our most personal valuables in a box, sealed it with duck tape (I only found out it was actually DUCT tape a while back) and written 'frames' or 'rocks' in thick black marker.

Of course I didn't do that. Instead I stuffed them away in a bench. It was the only hiding place in the cabin, except for the toilet cistern. If I'd been a drug dealer I'd have been all over that brilliant idea.

Then came the visitors.

The hubs wasn't home, probably a good thing and jobless (not-yet-a-momma) Momma was pottering about our cabin trying to unpack boxes and re-home all the goodies that had just arrived from Scotland.

First my sister-in-law rocked up and we started gabbing away. I didn't notice her six year old peeking under my bench lid.

"What's this?"  before Auntie Jo had a chance to stop her, she was waving a fluorescent toy in her hand. Not a kid's toy. Oh, no.

I stared at the pink (dare I write it?) butt beads in mortification before both my SIL and I exploded.

Yes, that's as close as I've ever gotten to literally laughing my ass off. What else could I do? Luckily the SIL and I don't keep too many secrets from each other. She would expect nothing less of me.

You'd think I'd have learned from this experience. I at least hid everything a little deeper in the bench. But save from digging a hole outside in our rocky terrain and burying the stuff in a time capsule, we had nowhere else to stash our booty. And I was not ready to part with it.

I'd already said goodbye to my Dutch DVD collection. I was terrified we'd get arrested for shipping contraband if anyone ever discovered them - and most of them wouldn't play on an American DVD player in any case - so I gave them all to my bezzie mate back in Scotland (lucky cow).

Except for the one. My all time favourite  - there was some crazeeee and unbelievable stuff on there - but heart-breakingly it never made it over to Texas with the rest of our household tat. At least - I don't think it did! I hid it so well, I couldn't remember where exactly, when everything arrived. Eventually I gave up looking, I don't know what happened to it! I've been waiting for four years for it to fall out of a picture frame, or a book....

I digress.

Not so very many weeks (or days) later one of my MILs showed up to help us settle in. And she really likes to help.

At some point during the visit I got overconfident and I dropped my guard. I'd vowed to keep my ass glued to that bench whenever company came over, but I guess I figured lightning couldn't possibly strike the same butt beads twice.....

I'm not sure where I was when she unearthed the rabbit - maybe I'd gone to the loo. All I heard was the startled discovery.

"Where did these come from?" Yes, you read it right. It was plural.

I wasn't looking her way, but I just knew what she was looking at. Instantly my face started to burn.

Did I really have to answer that? Apparently I did.

"Err, they're mine." I finally admitted racing over to close the lid and jump back on it as if the porn-paraphernalia would jump back out all on it's own accord.

"Thank God!" She was relieved. "I thought they belonged to the old lady!"

She meant the lady that had owned the cabin before we moved in.

Astonished, I watched as my mother-in-law - completely unfazed by the dildo discovery - moved on to help organize a different part of the cabin. I on the other hand was mortified.

She's pretty cool, is my kids' granny, if you don't call her Granny.

Even after these two embarrassing episodes, I'm still slack as my fanny when it comes to putting my toys away. Fortunately the hubs is pretty vigilant at clearing the crime scene on a morning before he leaves for work. What a gent!

PINK BUTTERFLY TOY BOX ($42.50). Safeguard your goodies with this pretty pink toy box. This lock box will secure your Passion toys or your most precious items. Features a combination lock. 11 3/4" wide, 3 7/8" deep, 3 3/4" high.