Quick! Hide the Sex Toys!

By Edwina / December 10, 2020

As I was going through lists of websites and blogs, searching for collaborations, I realized that I’d been so focused on presenting content for ranking, the personality of the blog may be falling a little flat. After all, you can have a ton of readers, but if Google doesn’t have you ranked, you are bound to be sucked into the dark abiss of the internet, never to be seen.

Therefore, I’d like to share a piece I wrote for Club Mom (now well known as Cafe’ Mom) when I was their Love and Sex Go-To Mom. And, just to give you an idea of how long ago this true-story took place, the subject – my then-toddler daughter – is now 23 years old. However, trying to pull off being a mom and a sexually active being at the same time, never goes out of style. Read away!

Having our bedroom toys close at hand, ready to grab at a passionate moment’s notice, was somewhat important to me. The last thing I wanted to do was jump up from our bed, run to our closet naked, climb onto a chair and rummage through a box to retrieve the perfect lubrication or vibrating plaything. The two words “climbing” and “naked” should never even be muttered in the same sentence.

Quick! Hide the Sex Toys! Image of various sex toys

But my daughter, who was 4 years old at the time, changed my entire outlook on keeping our toys conveniently located in our nightstand drawer.

It was a typical Saturday evening one summer. We had several friends over to watch a reality television show, play some board games and go for a dip in the pool. I glanced over to see my daughter holding something in her hand. She gazed, wide-eyed, at the treasure she had found. She turned it this way and that in her hand, admiring at it from every angle, trying to figure out exactly what this pretty, neon pink thing was. She was in absolute awe but obviously befuddled by what she had found.

“Mommy, what is this?” My inquisitive little girl asked as she thrust the item out at arm’s length for everyone to see.

All heads in the room turned to behold what my daughter held. At the same moment, I realized exactly what was in her tiny, curious little hand…my 6-inch, crystal jelly dildo. I gasped, but froze in my seat, fully intending on not making a big deal out of the situation.

“Honey, that belongs to mommy and daddy. Please put it back where you found it.”

She thrust the dildo toward me again. “But what is it?” The pliable toy quivered in her hand.

By this time, our guests had moved beyond the initial shock of seeing our adorable little girl holding a vibrator and had begun to snicker under their breath. Beginning to giggle a bit myself, I took a deep breath and said seriously,

“It’s a grown-up thing. Please put it back where you found it.”

A sigh of frustration billowed from my daughter’s mouth. She put one hand on her little hip and again thrust the toy forward, this time shaking it to enhance every word she said. With each shake, the vibrator bounced and bounced. “But tell me what it’s called.” she insisted.

The entire room burst into hysterical laughter. I could no longer contain myself and began to laugh. My husband was already doubled over and giggling.

This angered my little angel. Her brow furrowed and again, she tried to make her point by shaking the thing harder.

“Tell- me- what- it’s- called!” (Boing, boing, boing, boing, boing.)

We all roared with laughter. Wiping tears from my eyes, I contorted my face, trying again to be serious.

“It’s a grown-up massager. For when mommy’s shoulders hurt.”

My daughter looked down at the object she held. She looked up at me and her dad. Glanced back down at the vibrator and shook her head. “Grown-ups are weird.” She turned and disappeared into the shadows of our bedroom doorway.

To this day, I still laugh when I think about the night our little girl found our stash of sex toys. It was funny, but at the same time a learning experience. Our night stand drawer now holds a magazine, a tube of muscle rub and some stray pens, pencils and receipts. I am already thinking of an excuse to give my daughter when she discovers me, in the middle of the night, naked and dragging a chair into our bedroom. Some things just outweigh convenience.