I have a rather unique item.
You following me here?
Great.
Years back, when my partner and I were still young and unencumbered by parenthood, I agreed to host a party. Not just any party, mind you—think of those home sales for products like LuLaRoe, Thirty-One, or Mary Kay, but this one featured, let’s say, adult-themed items, including plastic phalluses, quirky gels, and edible undergarments. And honestly, who wants to munch on fruit leather that’s been in close proximity to bodily hair? But I digress.
Just my luck, I fell victim to a nasty stomach bug just an hour before guests were set to arrive—way too late to cancel. So, I ended up quarantined in our bedroom with a trash bin beside me while my partner stepped in as the gracious host. To my astonishment, he excelled at selling these adult toys (who would’ve guessed?). The sales went through the roof! Because of his success, I got to pick something for free. Naturally, I chose a large, glittery, blue, motorized, rotating… well, you know.
Fast forward to a few years ago when our eldest child was around five. After a closet reorganizing session, he was digging through some boxes and suddenly, I heard a wild buzzing sound followed by an astonished, “Whoa!”
My heart sank as I turned to find my precious Big Blue vibrating in his tiny hands. “What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.
Panic set in. I had to play it cool. If he thought it was something forbidden, it would only pique his interest further. “It’s… an antique,” I managed to say, snatching it away. “Just a, uh, vintage collectible. Let’s put this away.” I was mortified, shoving the item onto the highest shelf behind a pile of clutter.
“What’s an antique?” he asked from outside the closet, his voice muffled.
Honestly, I can’t recall what I said—it’s a defense mechanism to block out embarrassing moments. Somehow, it must have stuck with him because not long after, we were at my mother’s place, and I jokingly teased her about a ceramic cat she bought in the ’80s. “If you keep that cat much longer, it’ll be an antique,” I quipped.
Out of nowhere, my son chimed in with, “Hey, like your antique!”
I was taken aback. “What antique?”
He looked at me incredulously, “You know, the one in your closet? The big sparkly blue thing that buzzes and spins around? Whatever happened to it? Can we get it out and play with it?”
Oh. My. Goodness.
In front of my mother, my son was asking about my vibrator, which in his mind, was just a really cool gadget. “Oh, that?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant while internally cringing. “I think I tossed that out ages ago.”
But truth be told? I didn’t.
And maybe it’s time I do.
If you’re curious about more tales from the trenches of motherhood, check out this blog post for some relatable stories. Also, if you’re considering at-home insemination, Make a Mom has excellent syringe kits available. For additional resources on pregnancy and home insemination, Kindbody offers fantastic insights.
In summary, navigating parenthood is filled with unexpected moments, especially when it involves explaining “antique” items that are better left unmentioned.