I got kind of a surprise the other day. So did my kids. I had ordered some stuff online, drugstore type stuff, that our local, small-town drugstore doesn’t carry – toner for my middle-aged skin, cotton pads that I know I like, some girly liquid soap, and a back scrubber. I got some perfume, too.
I was a little worried about what condition it would show up in, since for the last week, we’ve had single digit temperatures, with frequent ventures into sub-zero temps. Most of the stuff I order online comes via UPS, so it’s exposed to the elements for the entire time it’s in transit.
Anyway, yesterday I had a full day – appointments in the morning, tutoring in the afternoon, and the package showed up just as I was leaving to go tutor, so I didn’t have a chance to open it before I left. When I got home, the kids were all home from school, just barely, and seated around the dining room table. We drank water and juice, and the kids were eating sandwiches and snack foods and telling me about their days.
I realized my package was still sitting there, unopened, so while my daughter was telling us about her Home Ec. class, I sliced open the tape and pulled out the packing list. Everything I had ordered was on it, so I started checking the items, one by one. The perfume was there – no damage, same with the cotton pads, the back scrubber, and the toner. The girly soap had frozen a little, and when I opened the bottle, it kind of squirted a half an inch or so of really cold soap on my hand, so I closed it up and went and washed my hands. They smelled really nice afterwards, too!
So, I was pretty happy with my purchases, and as I started putting them away, I noticed there was something extra in the box, at the very bottom. I reached in and pulled it out, as my kids were sitting there, chewing and talking and laughing, and, because I have no restraint whatsoever, I gave a surprised shout when I saw what it was and said, quite loudly and clearly, “Oh, my God, they’ve sent me a VIBRATOR!”
There was a second of silence around the table, and then every last one of us burst into hysterical laughter. I, embarrassed, shoved the vibrator back into the box and checked the packing slip again, wondering if I had accidentally clicked on a button while ordering and inadvertently purchased myself a sex toy. Nope, no vibrator was listed.
I stuck my head into the box, I suppose out of curiosity, and noticed that they had not sent me just any old vibrator, nosireebob! They sent me a complimentary Mr. Chubby, G-Spot Intensive, Waterproof Vibrator in screaming neon pink! (Batteries not included.) I was still snorting with laughter and embarrassment, and I checked the packing slip again – still no vibrator listed.
My daughter was pounding the table, howling and crying with laughter as she looked at my astonished face. She grew redder and redder, and I started laughing again and managed to whisper to her the name of the vibrator, which sent both of us into huge peals of laughter all over again. The boys, a little baffled, but still amused, had wandered off by now, and I looked at my daughter, and my packing slip, and my actual purchases, and I said, “I wonder if some clerk in the packing department looked at my stuff and decided that I must be a middle-aged lady in need of more excitement than just a good, long bath, so they added some Spice to my box??? Damn!”
We laughed and laughed, and finally calmed down enough to watch Dr. Phil together. During the commercials, I silently pondered what to do about Mr. Chubby. I would be hard pressed to send him back with no backup packing slip documentation, and I didn’t order it, I really didn’t want to splurge on postage, so I decided to think about it tomorrow.
Over coffee, after dinner, I did tell my husband that a new someone had come into my life unexpectedly. He gave me a disgruntled look until I whispered Mr. Chubby’s name into his ear and told him the, er, provenance thereof. Then he chuckled for a bit and squinted his eye at me and said, “HA! I’m holding the batteries hostage from now on!”
I have to admit to a little carnal curiosity. I also have to admit that I’m a little embarrassed that I know so little about Mr. Chubby’s ilk. I thought I was reasonably up-to-date – I have been to sex toy parties, and I thought I comported myself like an adult, even though the thought of something named “Santa and the Bear” still gives me the heebie-jeebies, and the most I ever bought was some fruit-flavored nipple cream (not all that tasty, even if the packaging was pretty good).
But yesterday proved that a little bit of the nervous teenage girl still lurks within this middle-aged body. So, maybe I’ll just put my new Mister away for a rainy day. With batteries.