Our oldest son has a Nintendo DS. (For anyone out there who raised kids on Atari, a DS is a handheld personal game system with addictive properties and mind-numbing powers.) We limit his use to weekends only, and hide it during the week. Well, Dave hid it this past week behind a picture frame in our bedroom, but it’s no longer there. Did our son find it and hide it in his own bedroom? Or did it somehow get placed in its normal hiding spot – my underwear drawer?
So Dave and I rifled through my personal garments, searching. We didn’t find the DS, but Dave reached to the back of the drawer, held up a bulging manila envelope and said, “What’s this?”
Oh. My. God.
Let’s go back in time, shall we, about 13 years, when my best friend threw me a lovely bachelorette party. She knew I wasn’t the type to go traipsing through crowded bars wearing a tiara, condoms pinned to my t-shirt. Instead, she hosted a girls’ night out wine-tasting event in her apartment. It was perfect. But I suppose even the most subdued and sophisticated female pre-wedding gathering cannot be complete without a touch of raunch, because she gave me a little gift. I had a girl’s best friend sparkling on the ring finger of my left hand, and in my right, I held up for all of my friends to admire what some might call a girl’s “second best friend.”
We all laughed, and then the mechanized pink plastic phallus went back into the envelope, got stuffed into my undies drawer, and was forgotten about. Somehow it moved with us from the city to NJ – was this by accident? Or did I think that maybe, someday, I might need it – but would never go and make the purchase for myself? Honestly, I have no idea.
But here we were, this past weekend, staring at this object that I suppose the fact of its never having been used makes a good case for the health of our marriage. And all I could think was that we now have three boys, one of which who may know where his DS is usually hidden. And that it isn’t entirely unheard of for a pubescent boy and his friends to seek knowledge of ladies’ things in places normally off limits. (gross, gross, gross)
So I tossed it back into the envelope and said, “We have to throw this away.”
And here is where my husband shocked me with a thriftiness I didn’t know he possessed. “Hold on!” he said, grabbing the package and unscrewing the bottom. “The batteries might still be good.”
Clearly, I’ve been rubbing off on him.
Blessing – Dare I say it? Spring has sprung!!