I was out running errands with Will this weekend. I realized I needed to dash into CVS quickly and pick up some feminine care products, if you know what I mean. I figured he would be fine with me for 1 second while I picked out my necessities and then I’d let him look through the toy aisle.
So I was scanning the feminine care aisle for my brand and size. Will pointed to a box of Tampax Pearl and asked me what it was. I said “stuff for Mommies” and shooed him away. Still scanning the shelves, I was then confronted with a tube of some sort of gel with strawberries on it that Will shoved in front of my face.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t see it.” I replied. Then I took it from his hands and looked closer.
It was strawberry flavored lubricant for the times you and your lover want to pretend you are getting it on in a strawberry patch. Huh.
I think I screamed and yelled, “Where did you get this?” Will pointed to the shelf behind me. It was the condom and personal lubricant section. Who puts that section across the aisle from tampons? Aren’t those things sort of counterproductive to one another?
I hastily shoved the strawberry lubricant in a slot, grabbed a box of tampons, and took my poor innocent 5-year-old to the check out lane, where the teenage boy cashier looked embarrassed to be ringing up my feminine care products.
Ugh. I think Will will not remember this experience, nor be permanently scarred by it. I’m not sure about me, though!
You don’t think that preserving this event in the annals of cyberspace will cause trauma to him? 🙂