Thursday, January 1, 2015

The Unmentionables

My daughter goes to Wyoming every summer to be with her dad for a few weeks. About two months ago, she told me her old babysitter (family friend) had invited to take her to a movie of her choice for her birthday. Bug chose Maleficent starring Angelina Jolie.

Photo credit: Pinterest
 

Once they got to the theater, the babysitter, whom I will refer to as Mary (fake stage name) took her to Sex Tape. I mean, whiskey-tango-foxtrot. My kid is 14. Needless to say, Bug hated the movie, did not know why Mary didn't take her to the movie she chose for her birthday, and was sad about it.  She was disgusted and recognized it was not a movie for kids. I was at least proud of her morals.

She recently just disclosed this to me. I told her father about it since it was on his watch and he was not pleased either.

Along with that, came out all the upsetting garbage she went through with the Step-Monster and her dad. She sobbed as she told me she thought her dad replaced her with her step-sisters and did not care about her, talked of the disparities, and lack of attention. She cried and cried. I gave her big hugs and just held her. I really did not know what to say.

Once she got over that, she continued to tell me that Mary had told her some things she really didn't feel was appropriate. Imagine a 14 year old telling her mother a story and all the while, labeling the incidents as "inappropriate." I think I am raising a superstar in the making or at least a copycat version of Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Apparently, Mary left a vibrator out on her kitchen table as most folks do. Or at least, when we entered crackhead homes as cops, they were sitting on the coffee table next to the pot, meth, or drug of choice for the day. It became a table centerpiece in most ghetto homes. Mary told Bug she was washing it and left it out to dry. Yes, I know...which wrong road do we take here?

So...why not keep them out on the kitchen counter of a deputy sheriff's house next to his morning coffee, right? It was awkward for Bug. She turned up her nose and said to Mary, "Ew...gross. What is that?" Somehow she recognized it as something odd, but did not know what it was. Naturally, Mary took this opportunity to explain what a vibrator is and how it works and how much great satisfaction it brings her.

Bug said she was disgusted and shocked, displaying big eyes and a dropped jaw. I mean, who does that to a kid who isn't even yours?

Mary laughed and told her to stop being such a prude. Along with the laughter, she explained to Bug that her mom and dad came to the house many times for Passion Parties and listed all the items of sexual pleasure that we had purchased over the years.

This actually angered me when I heard it, not because it was true, but because it is not information for a 14 year old to hear about her parents. I surely would have died if I had known my parents used sex toys. Ew..gross. I can't even write about it possibly happening.

Excuse me, I'm not feeling well. Be right back. The visuals of my parents are dancing in my head.

Ok. Whew. Had to purge those thoughts.

Fast forward to last night.

I was cleaning my bedroom closet as does any normal person on New Year's Eve who doesn't have a date nor ventures out into the dangerous world of drunken celebrations and midnight kisses. I'm not bitter. I really never had enjoyed New Year's that way even when I was married. I am sure that was one of the parameters of the divorce.

Lately, Bug has been stealing my very expensive skinny clothes and it enrages me to no end. She doesn't ask, and does it while I am at work. She gets on the bus about an hour and a half after I leave for work. Funny thing is, I didn't raise a spy. She is literally a terrible liar and a worse sneak.

Enter the Momster and my detective ways. Gets her every time and she cannot fathom how I figure it out. Sometimes it's the way the clothes are messed up or out of place, but still hanging on the hangers. Sometimes it the fact she leaves my clothes in her room. And yet other times, it is the fact I know my inventory and spot something awry. Maybe it is the smell of disrespect and theft in the air. Duh. Once a cop always a cop. I am that damn good.

She always screeches after she gets in trouble and asks me how I know. I simply say,
"Duh. I'm a cop, sister." It really pisses me off. I don't like this part of teenagerism. She ruins my things and thinks nothing of it. Let alone, the clothes are some of my most expensive ones before I went from Riches to Rags. I cannot replace anything and I take very good care of everything I own. She does not. She is also a pig and a hoarder. She is so her dad. Perhaps that part pisses me off, too. No respect.

Anyway, last night I noticed something new. My tub of lingerie was out of whack. I opened it up and noticed a corset bra was on top along with a nylon bag. These items were clearly out of place. I know. Why? I know. I know where I keep my doodads. I dug around some more. I panicked.

Wait... I'm getting to it.

"Bug, what have you been doing in my closet digging around?" I was stern and clearly not happy.

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"Don't play innocent with me, young lady. I have told you time and time again I am sick of this stealing shit and lying to me. I have had it!" I was really miffed by now especially after the passive aggressive avoidance technique she tried to use. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"What are  you talking about, Mom?"

"What in hell were you doing in my lingerie bucket? Did you find what you needed? Perhaps you wanted to wear my see-through nightie?"

"Um. No. I found all kinds of things I never want to see again. I was really grossed out. It will never happen again. I'm sorry." She talked very, very fast and was not even yelling so I knew she knew what I thought she knew and saw.

"Yep. I am pissed. We have had this conversation before and you don't seem to learn a thing." I was talking through gritted teeth at this point.

"Don't worry, Mom. Never again am I going to go digging in your closet. I promise." Yep. I knew. So I probed further...pun intended.

"Where did you put my vibrator?"

"I don't know, Mom. I threw it. It was so gross. I never touched one before."

I started digging frantically around in the closet like I had lost the crown jewels. My closet is a walk-in so it was crazy in there.

"Found it! You are so in trouble. I should make you sanitize it as punishment."

"No! I'm sorry!"

"Lucky for you I don't trust you to do a good job and I wouldn't want to stick a fuzzy dildo in my hoohah."

"Mom! Please stop! I really can't take this."

"Ok.You know what else, dear?"

"What, Mom?"

"I just rubbed my vibrator over all my clothes you like to steal and my shoes. In fact, I am going to rub it all over all my things." Oh, yeah. I was wielding the thing all dramatic and shit right in front of her and doing my devil penis magic ritual all over my clothes so it would gross her out. I am sure it is at the top of Pinterest parenting skills. Perhaps even Google. Or maybe on the judge's list of number one things a mother should get thrown in jail for doing. Actually, it's not illegal. I know this.

"I promise to never steal anything again! I promise never to go in your closet! I promise! I promise!"

"You better believe it. Because if you do...you will be wearing your mother's vagina all over town."

Don't worry. I always sanitize my vibrator before I put it up so I really didn't put my vagina all over my clothes. It was clean when I did my dance of anger and frustration while waving a penis wand.

And, by golly, I did sanitize it very well before I put it back away in it's hidey hole...I mean, hideaway place. No pun intended there.

I really need to read up on some better parenting skills.

 
I hope my child never becomes a stand up comedian. I would be checking myself into the funny farm pronto or drinking more wine.


4 comments:

  1. I don't think you should write about your vibrator experiences either... but pictures would be nice.

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  2. OMG. You are a nut. I snorted tea out my nose over this one.. the images.. oh my.. the images.. by the way.. what size shoes do you wear.. I'm looking for a pair of cowgirl boots..

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  3. Momma Fargo:
    If there is one thing I learned growing up (and carried it well into the autumn of my life), it's that whenever you have to go "snooping", always assume that people KNOW where & how their things are laid out...

    Therefore, INSPECT the drawer, closet, cabinet FIRST, see where everything is LOCATED and make mental notes.
    Works whenever you need to investigate anything.
    That way, you can always put things back EXACTLY where you found them.

    Then again, YOU can always try the "James Bond" thing, and place a wet hair across the drawer or doors. If the hair is gone, someone was in there.

    I don't think you're "bugged" (no pun intended) as MUCH my the clothing thing as you are from compounding her thefts" with LYING about them.
    That was always a biggie with MY folks...
    Don't do something and THEN lie about doing it...double-punishment time.

    Hang in there...you're still doing a great job.

    Roll safe down there.

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  4. Hey Momma Fargo,

    I would have had a major *pardon the pun* case of the ass if my kid saw and learned the stuff she did at her "dad's" house. Some things are not meant for teenage company. She needs to be "Innocent" a little longer.....That is too much growing up too fast stuff in the world today.....that is why teenagers are having babies too soon. Just my opinion. The other stuff is just funny as hell.....*sorry*

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