Family members? Please go away today or at least have the decency not to ever let me know that you read this post. Thanks!
Tate called me in a panic the other day while he was in Indiana with the movers as they were boxing up our stuff.
“Jennifer?! I’ve been looking everywhere for your blue vibrator and that little red pocket rocket. I CANNOT FIND THEM. Where ARE they?? I’m FREAKING OUT, I’ve looked EVERYWHERE!! I have to find them before the movers do. I’ll just DIE if the movers find them.” I thought I heard him start to weep. He was obviously frantic.**
(**Maybe I paraphrased Tate’s words and added some untrue details. Possibly I exaggerated for effect.)
“There, there, my love. Never fear, I have them here with me in Tennessee,” I reassured him in a smooth, calming voice.
“You do?” I could hear a childlike whimper escape from his lips. “Oh THANK GOODNESS. I’m so relieved! I was about to have a heart attack.”****
(****Okay FINE. you caught me. I’m exaggerating. So what? The underlying story IS true, though. So there.)
Moral of the story? Hide the vibrators from the movers so as to avoid embarrassment and heart attacks. The more you know! *ding*