Snickerfodder

Thank You, Erectile Dysfunction

Posted on: November 6, 2009

 

 

  

  

  

The M & Ms were ‘helping’ SassyMama clean up the kitchen the other night.

(the kind of ‘help’ that pushes mama one step closer to the nearest meth lab)

 

 

  

  

 

BLARING from my very favorite appliance in the world, my under-cabinet TV/CD/DVD player, 

 

came a COMMERCIAL

 

 

 

 

 

 

The ubiquitous and obnoxious SNUGGY plug? 

 

 

  

 

 

Naw; couldn’t be so lucky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It just so happened to be one of those erectile dysfunction ads. 

 

 

 

 

 

GREAT.

 

  

  

 

 

M2, her nose buried in her 3rd  (yes, 3rd ) Nintendo DS game system, was intent on her Mario Bros. game — or so I thought.

 

 

 

 

The ad spokesman cautioned the millions of  men within the viewing (and listening) audience who have the occasional and unfortunate flaccid penis to:

 

 

  

 

 “Ask your doctor if you are healthy enough for sex….” 

 

 

 

 

 

M2, my hyper-tasking-Ritalin-poster-child,  immediately perked up.

 

 

 

 

 

“Mama,  why did that man say, ‘sex‘?”

 

 

 

 

 

“Um…oh, boy…ummm….nnuummm….”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

M1, who just turned a worldly nine years old, replied,

 

 

 

“Sex is whether you are a boy or a girl, stupid dummy-head.”

 

 

 

  

  

 

 

 

 

M2, who is six-going-on-26, said,

 

 

 

“Nuh-uh! 

 

Sex is when you get NAKED!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Oh, God and Baby Jesus, help me)

 

 

 

   

  

  

Just then, The Dingus walked in to the kitchen. 

 

 

 

 

 I was able to face neither him nor my precocious children; I remained with my back to the whole flippin’ lot of them, frantically trying to recall where the hell I’d stashed my ‘Let’s Talk About Sex’ script

 

 

 

***NOTE to SassyMama-Self:  Find that dagum script  — STAT!    An all-nighter-cram-and-jam session may be needed so that I wouldn’t get caught tomorrow, bright ‘n’ early, with more prickly questions.   

 

***Erstwhile, keep workin’ the ‘Mama’s-just-been-frontal-lobotomized-con’.   Drool for added authenticity:

  

 

 

 

 

“Ummm…nnnuumm…aaahhh…uuummm….”

 

 

 

 

 

Seeing that —  for once —  SassyMama had no sass up her ass, M2 whipped around to confront her father.   

 

 

 

 

 

“Daddy, did you and Mommy SEX in high school?

 

 

 

 

  

  

 

 

HOLY SHIT!  WHERE’D THAT COME FROM? 

 

That one’s NOT in the flippin’ script!

 

  

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Oh, God and infant baby Jesus lying in the manger)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I threw The Dingus right under the bus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I let that question (and my hubby)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HANG

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

I was able to muster only a few more weak monosyllabic utterances while pounding a cabinet with my open palm

(that one was genuine; no acting on the pounding).

 

 

 

 

The Dingus wheedled out of the question by saying something akin to:

 

 

 

“That’s something only those who are 10 and older are allowed to talk about.  

 

Until then, it’s not appropriate for little girls to discuss such things. 

 

 

 

When you’re 10, MOMMY will tell you all about sex.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Touché, mon ami, touché. 

 

 

 

 

 

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2 Responses to "Thank You, Erectile Dysfunction"

OMG! I just peed my pants. Hilarious, I guess I will just use the great words of the Dingus when Madison gets up to speed with the M&Ms. Jeff can deal with AJ.
HA

Oh, Danielle, God help you two if your young’uns ever get up to speed with the M & Ms!!!

Last night, they dug up my vampire and Little Red Riding Hood capes. Then they raided my underwear drawer.

It was oddly quiet until they came bounding through the kitchen wearing the capes — and my ‘grandma gutchies’ and BRAS.

They struck superhero poses, and with a choreographed HEFT of their empty brassieres, announced that they both were:

‘Captain Underwear and Boobs’!!!!!

I asked which of them was the boob.

Oh, yeah, I got photos.

I plan to save and use them in a diabolical extortion scheme in their sure-to-land-them-in-the-hoosegow adolescence.

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