Sorry about that. All I can say is: LIFE.
Today's post is brought to you by the number 7, the color blue, and teenagers. But first, some advice for lovers.
1. You must kiss really good to make a girl wet her pants without touching there. Oh the kisses.
2. Create butterflies. Not in the laboratory or nature field of vegetation, but in a woman's soul.
3. Curse the day you can't have sex anymore and hope you don't give a shit by then.
4. Touching a woman's body the "right"way is indescribable. Even the best smut novels don't get it right.
5. Subtle hints and teases and plays before the final submerge are sometimes better than driving the submarine right in there...just sayin'.
The drapes^^^ do not match the carpet (below blip). I am forewarning you of that. Two different thoughts, but both having to do with interior design. And I must tell. Why? I have no idea but I am sure my mother will be calling me to tell me to take it down! Take it down! You can't tell the world about those things!
So...(fanning myself)...the Bug said some extraordinary things last night...about a present I received in the mail from a friend. It was the bomb!
|My present! Very awesome!|
BUG: That present you got in the mail looks like it belongs in the bedroom.
BUG: It looks like a vibrator.
ME: Bite your tongue. You don't even know what that is, sister.
BUG: Yes, I do. It is a dildo. It's plastic.
ME: No. It isn't.
BUG: Yes it is. And you have one. Kari told me. She told me you bought one at the passion party.
ME: Kari exaggerates about things and should not tell children those stories. I am appalled.
BUG: Well, I believe her. And it takes batteries I was told.
ME: WTF is she telling you this stuff and why were you even discussing it.
BUG: I don't remember.
ME: Man, I am pissed.
BUG: So, it's true. And that is gross, Mom. I don't want to hear it buzzing in the night.
ME: I need to exercise safe words here. I am not comfortable with this conversation.
BUG: What are safe words?
ME: Ugh. Never mind. Different forum. I am going to my safe place. (puts hands over ears)
BUG: Why do people like them?
ME: Gah! Enough!
So as a mature adulting mother, I just ran out of the room. Why me, God?