The Wife & I Discuss Sex Toys

A month ago I got a Twitter direct message (DM) from the loverly @maniacalmom saying she was headed to Vegas, “send me your mailing address and I’ll send you a care package when I get back.”

Truth be told, I get random DMs on Twitter once in a blue moon but nothing like that. While I love my girl and her blog, I didn’t really know what to do with that DM or how to respond, so I just didn’t.

Two weeks later she sends another DM saying “I’m back – send me your address and I’ll send your care package.”

“Ummm….I’m a bit scared. Are you going to show up, throw me in a well, tell me ‘it rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again’ and then wear me?” I politely asked?

Then I get her virtual business information which looked legit and I folded…I sent my address and today we got the package!!

Wife: “Wow…now who the hell is this woman again?,” she asks as she looks at the package contents strewn across the table while keeping a constant eye on the stairs for any prying eyes from the little nippers.

Me: “She’s that lady on Twitter who said she wanted to send us some gifts after her…”

Wife: “What the hell is this?”

Me: “I can’t tell from the plastic, but it looks like it’s shaped perfectly to fit around my…”

Wife: “And is that a dolphin?!”

Me: “That my dear, is AWESOME! It looks like a hollowed out dolphin thingy that totally hides this little vibrator thingy so the kids have no idea it’s a magical mystery tool designed to send mommy’s eyes rolling in the back of her head!!”

Wife: “What? Why are you bringing the kids into this? You’re sick.”

Me: “No…I just immediately thought if the kids found it they’d think, ‘oh cool, a vibrating dolphin with seven different settings—awesome!’ and we wouldn’t freak out as bad if we saw them accidentally playing with it in the bathtub or something.”

Wife: “Well, what are you going to do with your man-tube thing?”

Me: “You mean, Jennifer?”

Wife: “Holy shit you just opened it from the package and you already gave ‘it’ a name?”

Me: “Ssshhh…she’s sensitive. Look at her bumps and goodness. She exists to make us happy.”

Wife: “To make YOU happy? Poor Jennifery, she has no clue what she’s in for.”

And I thought about it…the wife’s right. If I come on too strong I’d hate to think what would happen. I’d go looking for her in my favorite drawer and she wouldn’t be there. The wife would be laying on the couch and feel a tug on her Snuggie sleeve. And to her dismay she’d see Jennifer…

Wife: “Oh my god what’s wrong Jennifer? Why are you crying?”

Jennifer: “He won’t leave me the fuck alone! Not even for a second!”

Wife: “Oh no!!! He’s following you around the house, rubbing against you and accidentally picking up imaginary things in front of you in the hopes you’ll look at his ass isn’t he?”

Jennifer: “Can you hide me under your blankets and let me watch CSI with you and just hold me for a while.”

Wife: “Come on girlfriend…hop in. Mommy’s got you.”

I’ve totally got to play this one cool. I can’t lose Jennifer the way I lost the wifey to her Snuggie and the couch...

The Wife & I Discuss Pointy Bras

Wifey: “So, did you know pointy bras are coming back in style.”

Me: “Does that mean you’re gonna finally buy some new bras?”

Wifey: “You’re an asshole…just because my bras don’t have flowers and aren’t lacy and my panties don't have ‘sexy’ across the ass doesn’t mean they’re not hot.”

Me: “I never said your skin-toned skibbies weren’t hot. I was just asking because you starting talking about pointy booby holders.”

Wifey: “Seriously honey…do you have a problem with my undergarments?”

Me: “Isn’t an ‘undergarment’ like a slip or something a Sunday school teacher wears? It makes me think of my grandmother walking around the house before bed in like 18 layers of silky nastiness filled with hooks and wires and shit. I’d much prefer you to say ‘panties.’”

Wifey: “Why can’t we ever have a normal conversation anymore? Can’t you save your Mr. Funny-Man routine for the internet?”

Me: “You mean the interweb machine thingy?”

Wifey “SEE?!!!!”

Me: “All right…sorry…damn. So who in the hell would wear those pointy bra things, anyway?”

Wifey: “I don’t know…I wouldn’t.”

Me: “What about tassels? Would you wear them if they had tassels hanging off them? And you could shake your chest and make them twirl and go in opposite directions….that would be money if you did that.”

Wifey: “You really need to lay off the porn.”

Me: “I haven’t watched porn in hours.”

Wifey: “You know the kids can find that stuff on the computer, because you have it so easy to find.”

Me: *loud throat clear “interweb machine thingy” *loud throat clear

Wifey: “Did you go to school to learn how to be such a difficult person to talk to?”

Me: “No, I took bowling because asshole was full. So seriously, I haven’t even seen one pointy boob walking around in the city. I don’t think they’ve made a come-back quite yet.”

Wifey: “I’m just sayin’, I read an article that said they’re coming back.”

Me: “Since when do you read the newspaper?”

Wife: “I read the paper…you’re not around me all day, you have no idea what I read and don’t read.”

Me: “You saw it on Oprah didn’t you?”

Wifey: “I hate you.”

Me: “I seriously don’t think you like me anymore.”

Wifey: “Oh for the love of God here we go again.”

Me: “No…I’m serious. I wake up most mornings sore as hell, and I know it’s because you’re giving me badly practiced acupuncture at night. The other day, Grayson called me a meanie and I swear I saw you high-five him. And today…just today when I opened my lunch bag, there was a note in with my sandwich that said ‘die fucker’ and I’ve had a stomach ache ever since.”

Wifey: “I DID NOT high five Grayson. I would never teach him that name calling was OK.”

Me: “If I bought you a pointy bra would you wear it?”

Wifey: “Keep kicking back those beers and you might need a pointy bra, drunk-o.”

Me: “That would be awesome! It would be like a boob-flask for dudes. I could fill one with beer and the other with Jager with straws coming out of both. I wonder if that’s been patented?”

Wifey: “Idiot….”

Me: “We really should talk more often. This was nice.”

Wifey: “Sssshhh…CSI’s coming on.”