By Darla Halyk of NewWorldMom
I’m just going to blurt it out: I have a vibrator (or 3.) I don’t think they’re called vibrators; maybe dildos? I don’t know. What I do know is one of them has a face on it. Creepy, right? The reason, or so I was told, is Canada wouldn’t allow sex toys into the country unless sold as a novelty item. Whether or not that is true, it clearly didn’t matter to me at the time of purchase.
Either way, let’s get back to this creepy dildo. Not only does it have a face, it looks like a totem pole. (I know, how cliché, a Western Canadian with a totem pole shaped dildo.) None of this mattered to me. It did its job—and well, I might add. There is only one problem with having a sex toy shaped like a Canadian totem pole.
Young, cute, innocent children that may not be able to decipher Mommy’s toys from their own.
Let me set the stage.
I was having one of those ah-mazing summer nights. Both my kids were in bed and I was all alone. As per the norm, I cracked open a bottle of wine and called my bestie on the phone. (NO, this isn’t the dildo part!) The two of us spent a couple of hours talking about the kids and complaining about our significant others. Two hours and a bottle of wine later, this girl was drunk. Want to know what happens when I get red wine drunk?
One of two things: I either turn into an angry elf or I get a little randy, if you know what I mean. This night happened to be the latter.
Fumbling my drunk ass upstairs to my bedroom, I headed directly toward my tickle trunk. Under lock and key, it took me a few minutes and one eye closed to focus on opening that sucker up. If nothing else, I was determined.
Once I had my Canadian totem pole in hand, I headed back downstairs. Why I didn’t just stay in the safety of my bedroom is beyond me. Wait, I know why. I was drunk!
Getting myself situated on the couch and almost ready to go to Funky Town, I passed out, never to see funky town. In doing so, I somehow lodged my totem pole between the sofa cushions, never to think of again.
That is, until the next morning.
Waking up a little groggy and somehow in my bed, I headed to my kids’ rooms to wake them up. It was Saturday and my daughter was having a few friends over for a mid-afternoon play date. I needed to tidy the house. You know, get rid of the evidence. The problem was I didn’t remember that I had ever gone to my tickle trunk.
After getting the kids ready for the day—at the time they were 4 and 6—I plunked them in the living room and headed off to the kitchen to make snacks for the play date.
About a half an hour later the doorbell rang. With a little more prep to do, I shouted down to the front door, “Come in!” With me not yet leaving the kitchen, my daughter’s two friends and their moms headed up the stairs to the living room. Wiping my wet hands on my shirt, I walked in to greet them.
And this is the reason dildos should not have faces on them.
Coming around the corner of the kitchen, I saw two moms with a look of shock on their faces. I would like to add that I only had met these moms through school drop off and pick up. We weren’t close—not enough to have had the masturbation conversation.
After I had witnessed the dismay on these moms’ faces, I quickly turned my attention to my kids. What I saw next changed the rest of the school year for me. Drop off and pick up was never to be the same.
My son was holding the Canadian totem pole in one hand and his favorite Rescue Hero action figure in the other. And it was full on action figure warfare! Because I wasn’t mortified enough, my daughter jumped in and grabbed the dildo out of my son’s hand. Waving it around like a light saber, she ran toward her friend and smacked her on the arm.
With. My. Dildo.
With lightning speed, I grabbed the sex toy from my daughter’s hand, stammering and trying to find a way to explain this fiasco. I finally turned to these two moms and spouted out, “I don’t usually let them play with sex toys, it’s just, I had a bottle of wine last night.”
So yeah, that explained it! Ugh.
Thankfully, these two moms ended up being kind of cool and laughing it off.
I want you to know, things were never the same after “Dildo-Gate.” There seemed to be fewer playdates, particularly in my house. A little less mindless banter at pick up and drop off. Whispers coming from moms on the playground. Pointed looks. Oh, and a lot more attention from the dads.
So be careful, moms. Learn from my mistakes. Kids will play with anything, and I am living proof.
This post was originally published on NewWorldMom
About Darla Halyk
Darla Halyk is the mom of a teenage boy and tween girl. She studied Business Management at Simon Fraser University. Soon after receiving her degree, she married and quickly got pregnant with her first child. Deciding to stay home with her kids instead of returning to the workforce after the birth of her son she became a SAHM, but not your average one. The gig lasted until the kids were school-aged, and her marriage ended in divorce. Darla has enjoyed writing since she was old enough to hold a pen to paper. Currently she writes for her blog NewWorldMom which brings a fresh, honest, and humorous take on parenting, women’s issues, relationships, divorce, and life in general.