In a Jiffy*

I was at the supermarket the other day, in desperate need of eye drops, when I came across two giggling eleven-year-old boys in the medicine/personal care aisle. Naturally, it was the condoms that caught their attention.

I wandered the aisle, desperate but unable to locate the eye products. I finally had to ask the pharmacist who pointed me in the right direction. Naturally, the eye drops were right where the giggling boys loitered. I guess the geniuses at Giant Food stores classify all lubricants equally, as the eye drops were shelved directly above  the KY. As I plucked a package of Refresh Tears (which included a free trial size!), one of the boys approached me, tittering. “Uh, excuse me Miss, which lube do you prefer?” He could barely keep in the laughter as his buddy abandoned him, sputtering towards the toothpaste. I thought for a moment and decided to make a difference in the boy’s life. I told him that lube is a very personal choice and I think it all comes down to experimenting until you find the brand that works for you.

 I walked away as he whipped out his ringing cell phone. With his buddy by his side once more, he shouted into the phone “Which type of lube do you prefer?” Giggle. Giggle. Pause. “No, Mom, we just left the movies and now were at Giant.” 

I’m just glad these kids aren’t learning about lube on the streets.

*This blog post is brought to you by Grape Jelly. Grape Jelly: If you’re using it as lube, check to ensure the tamper proof lid is in place before scooping.  

Summer feet

After a week of wearing loafers with no socks, my feet kind of smell like Fritos.

And I am kind of in to that.

Oh The HugeManatee!

Several months ago, I escaped the Northeast for sunny Florida to have an adventure with nature’s beast, AKA the manatee.  I donned an oh-so-flattering wetsuit and gently lowered myself off the boat along with my fellow snorkelers. I say “gently lowered” rather than “dived” because

1) we were in 3 feet of water, and 

2) manatees are afraid of splashing (Doesn’t that make you love them even more!?)

Manatees, some alone, some in groups, and a few pairs of mothers and babies swarmed us. Sucking on our wetsuits, flapping our tushies with their flippers, and swimming between our legs and lifting us up. I truly felt like I was in a magical world of unicorns who shit sunshine, rainbows, and sparkles.

To commemorate the experience, I purchased copious amounts of manatee kitsch, including a  charm necklace with the spitting image of one of my favorite mannie’s that I met that day. I wore it for the first time yesterday and anytime I got stressed out at work or school, I rubbed its belly (as I did that day in the sea) and a calm came over me. 

As you can imagine, I became alarmed when, later that evening, I realized it was gone.  I scoured and retraced my steps, hoping it was somewhere in my house, or caught on my sweater, but my manatee was nowhere to be found. Resigned, I went upstairs and got ready for bed. As I took off my brassiere, what should pop out, I mean, besides my boobs?... MY MANATEE NECKLACE!

Just like the memories of my magical manatee snorkel, the necklace was held close and safe in my bosom all along.