The Holiday Dildo Story
Every family has their own unique holiday stories and traditions. In our family, at some point in the festivities, the youngest kid will grin slyly and say "aren't you going to tell the holiday story, mom?". Then he sits down beside me all Norman-Rockwell-ey and if the guests are new guests they smile like what-a-sweet-tradition, because they have no idea
Every year there is a twist...
1. The Year My Friend From Seminary Was Visiting
Me: So, my sister and I were at the sex store, and we rounded the corner and there was this giant dildo on the wall.
Mike-from-seminary: Uh, are you sure you want to tell this story when David is here?
Me: He’s an adult, and he’s heard it lots of times.
David-my-second-oldest: Not all of those times, for the record, occurred when I was an adult.
Me: Whatever. You don’t think this story is inappropriate. You told it to all your friends.
Mike: You told your friends a story that began with “My Mom and my Aunt were shopping at the sex store?”
David: Yeah, they gave me the same look you’re giving me now. You just have to power through that part, because it’s worth it.
Mike: But weren’t you all “Why were you—“
David: NO. SHUT UP. Asking questions is NOT POWERING THROUGH. Do not ask questions, or she will just answer them.
Mike [turning to me]: Were you mad when he told that story to his friends?
Me: Hell yeah. Because when I went to tell it to them, they were all “We’ve heard the giant dildo story already, Mrs. James”. And then I didn’t get to tell it!
David: See, what I remember is that you went ahead and told it anyways.
Me: Because it is best when I tell it. Everyone agrees on that. So, we were at the sex store, and we rounded the corner, and there was this giant dildo on the wall. It was huge. It was, like… THIS LONG. [you have to imagine me making a hand gesture here. One that is REALLY BIG. The first time I told the story, I held my hands about a foot apart, but the dildo grows each time I tell the story--which is fitting, really--and now I have to spread my arms as far as they will go and soon I will need a second person to help me.]
Me: Now, I don’t want to be all sex shamey and judge-ey, because I’m usually a pretty open minded person.
Mike [looking over at David uncomfortably]: I do get that sense.
David: Power through. It’s worth it.
Me: But even I was kind of “Ahh!!! AH AH AH! AHAHAH!!!” And I said to my sister “I don’t understand the physics! I just don’t get it! I mean, your cervix is this far in, so how does this even work?” and the sex store lady said very sweetly “Well dear, they aren’t usually used for vaginas.”. And I said “AHHHH!!! Ah ah ah!”. Not to be sex shame-ey or anything, but I really don’t get the physics of that either.
Mike: Well—
Me: THAT WAS NOT A QUESTION, MIKE!!! TMI. TMI.
David: Huh. I did not know you were familiar with that phrase.
Me: So, I came straight home, and I was all “Gary, can you—“ and he got all awkward and unhappy looking. But then I realized we were having a miscommunication, and I rephrased the question as “is it physically possible for a person who is not you, just in theory, to’” [Gary, we assume, is able to answer all medical questions due to being a surgeon, which is relevant at this point and will become a great deal more relevant shortly]. And Gary was all “yup, that’s a thing people do”. And I was all “Holy cramoley. Can you believe that the store even stocks something like that? They will never sell it.”. And then, there was this long, quiet pause, and Gary said “Purple, right? Yeah, they’ve sold at least one.”
[Pause for effect]
Mike: Where. Did. It. Get. Removed. From.
Gary: Well, this one couple decided to tie a string to it, and stick it down one person’s throat—but when you get a dildo all the way down your throat, you can’t pull it back up because the opening closes in your esophagus.
(pause)
Gary (thoughtfully): We pride ourselves in Canada on teaching safe sex in schools, but there’s a lot of information that could be added, really...
2. The year I officially became no-longer-a-mother-of-babes:
Gary (thoughtfully): We pride ourselves in Canada on teaching safe sex in schools, but there’s a lot of information that could be added, really...
My youngest, who was 11: Yeah. There is nothing in any of our health classes about the importance of a flared base.
(Very. Awkward. Silence.)
Me: WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT PHRASE???
Youngest: Reading Cards Against Humanity Cards on youtube.
Me: AAHHHHHH!
Youngest: I don't know why you are upset. You just said that this information is important for people to know.
3. From the year I had laryngitis:
(Awkward silence)
(More awkward silence)
David: This is really good prime rib.
Gary: Thanks. It’s from Bulk Cheese. [that is the name of the butcher. Don’t ask me to explain].
(Awkward silence)
David: It feels like somebody died in here.
Me: [Gesticulating wildly, attempting to make entire sentences out of my newly invented form of sign language].
David: Liz. It’s okay when there are pauses in a conversation.
(Awkward silence)
David: Liz, do you not know that this is what conversations are like most of the time for normal people?
Me: [more gestures, now with whistling to capture "tone"]
David: Maybe we need to get Liz a whiteboard or a keyboard or something.
Eric-the-teenage-son: Don’t worry. She has Facebook. She will say all of the things there.
So that year Gary had to tell the dildo story, and it was WAY more boring, although there was this added tidbit because he left room for people to get words in edgewise...
Auntie Jaime: What I wonder is, how did the person breathe?
Gary: Around it.
Auntie Jaime: Well, no, because it would be so big, it would block your airway.
Gary: Nope, you can just breathe around it.
Auntie Jaime: There is no way.
Gary: Trust me. We do it all the time.
[The. Awkwardest. Holiday. Pause. In. The. History. Of. Time.]
Me [in my head, due to the laryngitis]: Huh. I know I am absentminded, but I really feel I would remember something like that.
Gary: At WORK! For gastroscopy! We put a tube down their throat!
David: Huh. This story is WAY better when Dad tells it.
Gary: When you put it on the blog, you have to specify that I meant AT WORK.
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