Condom Conundrum

If you've been humoring me reading my blog for a while, you know that I LOVE free samples. But if you think all I get in my mailbox is little boxes of cereal and miniscule bottles of shampoo, think again: I happen to have a drawer full of *ahem* more adult samples.

"Really?" I bet you're thinking. "What could be more 'adult' than the Metamucil packet you got a few weeks ago?"

Okay, I said "adult," not "geriatric." And by adult, I mean ... *bow chicka wow wowww* ... ADULT. Like AstroGlide. And various forms of over-the-counter birth control (which we obviously haven't used much, since I've been pregnant for pretty much the last four years): several different kinds of condom and a mysterious packet that says "VAGINAL CONTRACEPTIVE FILM." It's been in there so long that it's probably expired and ineffective, but I envision a va-jay-jay full of plastic wrap and, well, it just doesn't seem so appealing.

Anyway, because it would seriously make me cry to get pregnant again right now - seeing as Coby just turned one month old yesterday - it's time to dip into The Drawer. And the first thing we happened to pull out was a sample of these:

(Photo from Funky Condom. No, I'm not making that up.)

Anyway, the sample came in a little flat cardboard package, which I threw into the kitchen trash. (After the fact, of course ... we weren't gettin' freaky on the counters or anything.) When I threw it away, I noticed that the trash was full and made a mental note to bag it up in the morning.

Fast-forward to the next morning. Colin goes to throw something away and gasps upon seeing - you guessed it - the amazingly awesome purple package in the trash can. So what does he do? Why, he digs it out, of course ... and runs around the house with it, waving it around excitedly, shouting "Envelope!"

"Put that back!" I say in a super overly-casual tone. Because, like, if I shriek about it he'll know it's from something I don't want to explain. "It's trash!"

"Mommy, it's just a box from some fabric softener," Colin says.

"Fabric softener. Yes," I reply affirmatively. "That's what it is. But it's still trash so ... please throw it away."

That trash is neatly bagged and sitting on the curb as we speak. Thank goodness the kid can't read.