Unpacking

We all have things that happen to us which are very embarrassing.  I think it’s smart to tell these stories so that others can feel secure in their own embarrassment knowing that someone else has been in a more awkward situation than them.  I’ll do this for you now and you can thank me later.

One time, long ago, after I moved into a new place I thought it would be best to store all the unpacked boxes in the spare room. I had no time to unpack all that stuff and this would be a good test to see if I should actually even keep it. One day, while I was working, my mom decided to do me a favor. When I arrived home, all of the boxes were unpacked, the cardboard sent to recycling and the contents of the boxes were put away wherever my mom saw fit. This actually was a huge relief and I really couldn’t thank her enough. Having that room cleared out was just one less thing nagging in the back of mind.   

Later that night as I was falling asleep and recounting the day’s events I started to imagine those boxes and all of the things inside them.  Things that I’ve lugged around from house to house, from life to life - some of it very useful, most of it completely useless. Then it hit me…like a ton of bricks!   I sat straight up in my bed with a feeling of dread in my gut.   My vibrators! In one of those boxes were: a stash of socks I hardly ever wore and 3 or 4 adult toys! Oh shit. What did my mother do with my vibrators?! (I know what you’re thinking: good Lord, why does a girl need so many vibrators?! That is neither here nor there. I still had to find the sons o bitches.)

I lunged out of bed and stood in the middle of the room with my hands over my face, trying not to imagine my mom handling these private goods. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I thought as I paced back and forth in my room. If I were my mother, where would I put them…I checked my underwear drawer – not there, I checked the bathroom cabinet – not there. I checked the top of the closet and felt a strange box that did not belong to me. “Oh Jesus,” I thought. I pulled the box down from its place and there…organized in order by size, from biggest to smallest were my vibrators in a Rubbermaid lunch box container.   

In a flood of emotion, I just started laughing. Imagining my mom finding the vibrators in those boxes and trying to think of the best place to store them~ how humiliating! For both of us!  I called her the next day and jokingly said, “Mom, I feel violated! You organized my vibrators?!” and she just chuckled and said, “Well that’s ok, honey, did you find where I put them?”