I cleaned out our bedroom and closet this week. I unearthed quite a bit of sex toys, sex books, gels, lubes, everything you could possibly think of. I moved it all to a quiet corner of my closet. Seems to be safer there than under the bed with a 15-month-old running around putting various things into his mouth, right? Right.

But my husband invited over a carpenter on Sunday. Fine. He wants Carpenter to build a shelf for the new TV downstairs. Fine. But somewhere in there, my husband decides he wants shelves installed in the closet.

I walk in in time to see this poor guy (kinda cute, too) staring at my collection of vibes, books, and something someone gave me post-baby called a V-Flex. Never been used, front and center, still in the box.

(or never in MY box, I suppose)

Regardless, his face was red. I thought it was pretty damn funny myself.