For those of you that follow us on twitter you might have noticed my recent tweet:
You know you're desperate to come when you have to pick the lock of your toy chest. ~frances
Color me frustrated. Daniel and I were enjoying our evening phone call when I decided,
"I think I should come before I go."
I was packing for a 4 day vacation with my in-laws and there would be much Jesus to look forward to and sadly no orgasms.
"Is that like: Hey, I gotta take a leak before I hit the road?"
I guess for me it kinda is. I wasn't exactly randy, but I wasn't exactly not either. But with 4 days of family imposed celibacy looming, my head was telling me I should find a way to be in the mood, so I wouldn't regret it later. (A well satisfied frances is a more kind and mellow frances...)
I reached in the closet for my new toy suitcase. (I forgot! I have to tell you all about this gem of a make-shift toy box I stumbled upon. More on that in another post.) As my hand pulled the somewhat heavy portmanteau from my closet I was struck with a terrifying thought...
"I don't have the key!" I wailed into the phone.
"Maybe I can pick the locks." I thought out loud as Daniel listened on the other end of the line. I could tell he was smiling. I could tell he was getting a small kick out of my desperate frustration. I took my house key and began picking and turning and excitedly attempting to jimmy the case open. With a small twist the first latch popped open.
"Got it!" I shouted triumphantly.
As I worked my magic on the opposite side Daniel began inquiring as to what toys I might consider using. Being pressed for time he suggested an old favorite and soon after I was coming as intensely as I had been trying to access my toys.
MORAL OF THE STORY
I think I better find a better place to keep my toy box key.
At least we know now how easy it really is to break into it.
Lesson learned, but it still makes for an amusing story.