Obsessing about ONE box…
WARNING: there is too much information in this post.
For the past week, I’ve been searching for the box into which I deposited the contents of my bedside table. I have a stack of books + my e-reader in that box. That e-reader has become my Holy Grail. I’ve got the latest Kim Harrison book on it – fantasy escapism is in that e-reader – plus a crapload of erotica. And right now – I am in great need of fantasy escapism. The visual chaos surrounding me is making me batshit crazy. My wild-eyed panic usually hits at the end of the day – when I’d like to decompress with a good, or at the very least, satisfying book.
As I was madly searching for the missing box last night – I had a horrifying realization. Other contents of my bedside table are in that box. Other adult contents of my bedside table. My Hitachi Magic Wand is in that box!!! I’ve lost my royal sceptre! Plus other things are now missing… other ‘help you have good sex’ things. Things that made me tell Rissa years ago, “Do NOT go into my bedside table.” “Why?” “There are sex things there.” “EEEEEEEEEEEWWWW Mummy.” “Yes, and if you root around in there all you’ll be able to think of is Daddy and me having sex with them.” “MUMMY!” “Told you.”
We moved a week ago. Downsizing by half means we have spectacular box stackage in the new house. Boxes, as far as the eye can see. Boxes, piled 4 – 6 feet high. The master bedroom, at present nearly impenetrable, because there is an entire room of craft/sewing supplies waiting to be stacked in the back of the soon-to-be designed closet under the eaves.
There are 15 years of marriage props in that box. The best of the best is in that box. Over 15 years of marriage you try and discard a lot of stuff. Like say, the honey dust, which although it tastes good, having the dedicated time to dust or be dusted by your partner is almost non-existent and then when the dust gets even slightly wet – you just end up sticky. And even though you’re supposed to lick it off – come on – who has the time or the energy to do a full-body lick. And then the sheets are all sticky… And that means that you have to do even more laundry after your adult play date…
But there are other things in that box. Tried and true things – just the right size, just the right fit, the right amount of… shall we say… glide… Things that were purchased at the Sex Shop equivalent of a Whole Foods store. Pricey, organic things.
Which means that now I need to go shopping. And you know what’s going to happen, right? I’ll re-source my bedside table contents and then of course the box will show up and I’ll have two of everything. I’m having a flashback to Double Mint commercials. Double your pleasure, double your fun. Even just the thought of that scenario is going to keep me smiling all day.
