QI recently discovered, accidentally, while moving things out of my 16-year-old son’s room prior to a renovation, a cache of my sex toys that had mysteriously disappeared over the past year. While I’ve wondered how it was possible to misplace a glow-in-the-dark crucifix-shaped dildo (complete with Jesus in relief), it never dawned on me that it might be an inside job.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
AYou’re gonna have to have a long talk with the little shit, DAD. First, apologize for snooping—accidentally, of course, during a “renovation.” Then bring up the sex toys. Be matter-of-fact about it, but firm enough to communicate a sense of violation: He violated your privacy and possibly your glow-in-the-dark crucifix-shaped dildo, a sex toy that was consecrated to your orifice(s) and your orifice(s) alone. (“Your orifice(s)” refers to your own personal orifice, DAD, as well as the orifices of your chosen sex partners, a position that is not—one hopes—open to your 16-year-old son.) Don’t let on that you’re embarrassed, even if you are—force a smile, if you can.
Then turn the tables on your son and embarrass the shit out of the little shit: Ask him if he was penetrating himself with your crucidildo, and ask him if he has any questions about sex toys in general or butt toys in particular. He’ll insist he wasn’t sticking that thing in his ass—although we both know he was—because he’ll want to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Your job, DAD, is to drag… this… talk… out… to achieve maximum mortification.
Your second, and far superior, option is to tell her what she wants to hear—”For you, I won’t masturbate”—and then beat off when you want to or when you need to and lie about it. Beat off on the kitchen table when she’s out of the house; slip away for ten minutes to take a “crap” or a “nap” when she’s home. So long as you’re an attentive lover and you’re not neglecting her needs, and so long as you’re not inconsiderately leaving evidence all over the place (wash out your own crusty socks), feel free to work around her irrationality with a little harmless deceit.
Send questions to mail@savagelove.net.
