As a parent, I like to think every choice I make in regards for my children is well thought out, purposeful and with their very best interests always placed forefront in my mind.
This is what I tell my kids when they whine ask why they have to do the dishes or clean the bathrooms. I tell them I am teaching them the value of hard work and co-operation while giving them the tools to responsibly keep house as an adult.
“Your house won’t magically clean itself you know,” I sagely advise.
What I don’t tell them is that I’ve waited over a decade to finally be able to hand over the feather duster and make the little buggers earn their keep. I consider it payback for all the times I’ve had to lovingly clean up projectile vomit, stray urine splatters and spaghetti coloufully tossed onto walls and the floor.
In the interests of child labour laws keeping the peace and preventing a mutiny (where my offspring corner me against the wall and start beating me with broom sticks to show me who’s boss,) I equitably divide up the house hold chores between the three of us, carefully ensuring we all do our fair share.
(Fair is all in the eyes of the beholder. And I’m the beholder. Heh.)
This means every weekend I bust out the cleaning supplies and my children try to pretend they are invisible while hiding in various crevices of our house until I hunt them down and force them to start picking up.
This weekend was no different. After a playing yet another round of finding and cornering my offspring, I divvied up the chores and we commenced killing as many dust bunnies as we could find.
Fric was off in one end of the house, concentrating her efforts on the disaster she likes to refer to as her bathroom while yodeling at the top of her lungs as she bobbed her head to some mysterious beat thumping from her iPod directly into her ears. Frac and I concentrated on the other end of the house.
Frac needs a little supervision when it comes to finishing his chores, as he is a tad absent-minded. I’ll ask him to wash the dishes and find him sitting at the computer in the kitchen shooting zombies or something. I like to think he’s an airhead and isn’t doing this to completely drive me bonkers, but you never know. The kid is wily like his mother. It may be part of his master plan to gain control of the asylum.
I installed Frac inside my bedroom ensuite, charged with the task to clean my bathroom as I changed my bed sheets and put laundry away and generally just hovered within ten feet of the bathroom door so I could continually keep an eye on my young son and covertly spy on his progress.
Every couple of minutes I’d sneak a peek to make sure he was actually cleaning the bathroom and not fencing an imaginary foe with the plunger and he’d roll his eyes at me and sigh with great heaviness as though he was so put upon by my mere existence and tell me he has everything under control.
“I don’t hear any scrubbing sounds, Frac,” I’d call out as I chased dust bunnies out from underneath my marital bed.
“I’m putting all your makeup away,” he’d call back in an accusing tone as though I have more makeup than Tammy Faye Baker ever did.
“It doesn’t take long to stick a tube of mascara and the blush back in the drawer,” I would remind him as I fought a with a particularly vicious dust bunny.
Silence. Then the splashing sounds of water running and Frac would start cleaning before getting distracted five seconds later and we repeat the entire conversation.
Lather, rinse, and repeat. Until I either lose my mind or wear my child down into actually cleaning the bathroom.
As predicted, a few minutes later the sounds of child labour came to a deafening halt and I could tell my darling son had wandered deep into the forests of his imagination and far from the tasks of wiping behind the taps of the bathroom sink.
Just as I was rolling my eyes and about to call out to hassle my child out of his reverie, Frac walked out of my bathroom and into my bedroom with something small and white in his hand and a puzzled look on his face.
“Mom? What’s this?” my precious, innocent 11 year-old boy asked as he fondled my Diva Cup.
Shiiit. So much for hiding it under the sink at the back where he wouldn’t find it.
“Um, it’s my Diva Cup,” I replied honestly while watching him roll it around in his fingers. “You might not want to play with that kiddo,” I gently warned thinking about how high his future therapy bills would be once he realized I knowingly let him play with my feminine hygiene product.
Catching the warning in my tone of voice he looked up at me and realized what that while he didn’t quite know what he was holding, it must surely be the equivalent to a hand grenade without a pin.
“Ew,” he yipped as he tossed it like a hot potato back into the bathroom. “What’s it for?” he asked as he rubbed his surely infected hands on the tops of his pants.
Laughing at him and praying I wasn’t about to be pulled into a Birds and the Bees type of conversation with my preteen son while his father was living the life of luxury working away from home, I looked Frac straight in the eyes and used my most motherly tone, “You don’t want to know, kiddo. Trust me on this. Some things should remain a woman’s secret.”
His blue eyes went as round as pie plates as he processed this information. I could see the tiny wheels of his brain churn like clock work as he struggled to place all the pieces of this puzzle together.
He looked up at me as I tried to avoid eye contact folding a blanket and cried out, “That’s disgusting!”
Thinking the jig was up; I put down the blanket and sat on the bed, prepared to have an intimate mother-son talk about the wonders of a woman’s body.
“Why is that disgusting Frac?” I gently asked as he looked like he wanted to drop into a gaping hole and hide for the remainder of his manhood.
“You…you…you put that thing on your…your…your BOOBS!” he sputtered.
It took a second but then the hilarity of the situation and the complete farcking relief at having dodged this parental bullet momentarily washed over me, and I burst out laughing.
“Yep, yep I do Frac.” Sure. I put my diva cup on my boobs. That’s way better than explaining where I really put it. I’ll totally go along with that.
(Side note: Do I even want to know what he imagines I do with my boobs? Probably not.)
“That’s so wrong Mom,” he griped as he headed back to resume cleaning my bathroom. “Here I thought I could use it to make a dunce cap for Thatcher. She’s so dumb she needs one. I’m not touching that thing now though. Gross,” he shuddered.
“Good idea, best just leave it alone,” I warned, still chuckling at my innocent son.
For the moment, I’m totally down with letting my boy remain ignorant to the ways of womanhood. I’ll admit it, I’m a chicken. I’m far too young to be sprouting the grey hairs I’m sure that conversation would lead to.
I’m tossing this hot potato into my husband’s lap.
Here’s hoping I don’t find my darling puppy wandering around with a Diva Cup tied to her head before he gets home to have a testicle to testicle tête-à-tête talk with my son.
Heaven help us all.
85 Comments
*snort*
If the thoughts of you putting it on your boob worried him that much, the truth would surely send him in to therapy.
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OMG. Bwahahahaaa!! I was all envious that your kids help you clean until the Diva Cup conversation. I will happily clean my bathroom if it means avoiding talking the birds and the bees for a few more years.
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Here in the US we do nto have DivaCup; at least, I’VE never seen one. We had a similar product many moons ago but the one person I know that used it hasn’t seen it on shelves in years. Just goes to show how much I know-I thought it was for contraception! (I was going based on shape alone.)
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The thought of your diva cup suctioned to your boob is the fuuniest thing I’ve imagined all day. Ha!
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Oh, god. What does he think you DO with it on your boob? EEEEW.
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Until today I went 32 years without knowing what a Diva Cup was. Please ensure that there is enough room on the therapist’s couch for me too.
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BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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oh, the innocence of it!!! He would be truly and utterly horrified if he knew what it ws really for!!
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I think you just sold me a feminine hygeine product.
Thanks for sharing!
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so funny! I still remember finding my mom’s tampons together with my brother. We inspected them, took one apart, couldn’t figure out what they were for. But somehow, we knew not to ask.
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OMG. hilarious. I am really curious what he thought you were going to to with it on your boobs! Priceless!
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I am with Will. Will can we get a group rate?
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Thank God I have a girl… Of course I have other problems, like my two year old asking why “Daddy has a tail.” Um, tail? Time to bring out the doll and explain anatomy.
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OH, and I forgot my own tidbit of parental snarky about “that time of the month”
My 3 year old watched me toss some tampons in my purse and he asked me, “What are those…. drumsticks?”
Yes darling, I keep individually wrapped drumsticks in my purse. Because you never know when I’ll need to perform a sterile drum solo.
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Seriously - do you like it? I hear so many raves about it, but never had the balls to use one.
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I had no idea those things even existed until this moment.
Ew.
I’ll stick with the normal stuff. Like vagina mints.
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I clicked over and I STILL can’t visualize how that thing works. I’m content with it being a nipple cap too. Stupidity is bliss…
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Bwah hah hah hahaha!!!! oh, that is just way too funny!!!
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Of course it’s for your boobs, you tuck them in the cup at night to keep their shape and to prevent drooping. That’s what I would say. You know what’s worse?? When your dog runs around the house with your adult toys in her mouth. That’s a fun one
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boobs? boobs? BWHAHAHAHHAHA I agree the REAL use will totally traumatize him.
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I am ashamed to admit that I’m still too afraid of my Diva Cup to test drive it.
However, I can sympathize with Frac. I was 9 when I found my mom’s douche bottle underneath her bathroom sink and asked why it smelled like vinegar…
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for me it’s my mother-in-law. she’s helped with the laundry which is great. it’s when she puts it away in the drawer…and sees toys otherwise concealed by said laundry.
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That’s hilarious you use a diva cup…and that you son found it. One day this post is going to send him screaming for the hills. Poor child.
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Priceless…
I told would have gone with the boob explanation, too.
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You should start saving for his therapy NOW.
I’m oddly curious about the Diva Cup…I’ve heard other bloggers mention it too. Will be digging through your archives to see if you’ve posted about it before.
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Shit, I don’t even want to know about the Diva Cup. The whole concept skeeves me out. I thought you were a redneck mommy, not a hippie one!
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This is hysterical.
Also, I’m dying to know how you feel about the Diva Cup. Is it better than the disposable Instead cups?
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Ignorance is such bliss. I think my husband would prefer to think that it went on my boob too. Still not wanting to have that conversation with him!
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I reckon I will be able to hear the howl of disgust all the way over here in Scotland when Frac finally goes off and googles “Diva Cup”
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When he realizes what that really was, you’re going to have a doozy of a conversation on your hands. And by you I mean your husband. And by conversation I mean therapy session where he represses everything your son just heard.
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That’s so funny!! Kids do the funniest things. I walked in on my 4 year old niece putting a tampon between her legs (with her pants on). She told me that’s where she saw mommy put it and she wondered why. At least she’s a girl though. LOL!!!
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HAHAHAHA PRICELESS!
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My sister’s kids found her maxi pads, unwrapped them and stuck them to the bottoms of their feet. They emerged from the bathroom laughing hysterically. “Slippers!!!!!”
Oh, and to all the curious people re: The Diva Cup. All I have to say is try it. Once you do, you’ll NEVER go back to tampons or pads again. NEVER. I had reservations about it first, but since giving it an honest try, my only regret was that I didn’t discover it years and years and YEARS ago.
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I’d have told him it was DADDY’S. Heh.
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OH MY DAMN. I just googled the Diva Cup and may I just say thanks for making me throw up in my mouth. THANK GODDESS I’ve been fixed.
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Lol. Well… awesome. I wandered to my cousins one time to find that an entire box of tampons had been used to build a fort for GI Joe. That was awesome. Children… love ‘em.
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Do you like the Diva Cup? How long have you been using it? I have questions, lots and lots of questions.
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Hmmmm. . .interesting that he didn’t ask why you didn’t have two. And, it’s a bit funny that he’ll probably gather his friends together to tell him that you have this ‘plastic thingy’ for your boobs. Oh, but the truth would’ve been too cruel. Save it for when he really deserves it.
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Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I was as clueless as Frac but now I’m educated and I think I threw up a little in my mouth.
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I have NEVER heard about this Diva Cup before!!! Tell me more! Is it expensive?
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diva cup!!!
one more reason i’m glad God gave me a willy
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HAHAH! Oh my. Yeah, I keep mine in its handy little baggie. You ought to so then you won’t have any sort of whoopsie daisy scenarios.
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Oh the Diva Cup is great. That in combination with mama pads have saved my life, never ever going back to those disposable plastic mush things ew.
As for the kids well at least he’s the boy. You need to give the girl a lecture before she gets that monthly visitor and you know Boo isn’t going to touch that one with a 10 foot pole. Good luck with that…
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I remember seeing Marily Manson on Howard Stern once talking about how when he was young he used to like to eat in the tub while he bathed. Then he went on to tell how once he poured his coke into his mom’s douche bag (you know the old school kind with the long hoses)not knowing of course what it was - and drank it through the hose. Too funny.
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OMG!! This was priceless!!! ROFL!!
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I had *no* idea what a diva cup was! I just ordered one!
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Like having an actual cleaning lady (dare to dream…), sometimes I have to pre-clean my house before the kids help me clean. They can’t dust for crap, but it makes the experience far less creepy!
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TMI fer shure, eh.
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I am vision impaired - some days are better than others - I use a magnifier and sometimes a screen reader - today a little of both.
When I heard Diva Cup I had the computer repeat it several times then I sent the words to a speller - spells each word - when I heard d-i-v-a my memory immediately thought Mariah
I could do her all night longCarey but big brain regained control and directed me here:Induction by Diva - All the POWER without the HEAT
Diva de Provence Makes Cooking Accessible to the Visually Impaired See at http://www.divainduction.com/
(Great stove - I would starve without mine)
When I heard c-u-p my first thought was of cooking (measuring cup - I was hungry-dinner was cooking) but then these two thoughts came to mind:
# The part of a brassiere that covers the breasts…..
# A protective cup in a jockstrap designed to protect… See here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cup
I wondered if mine came with a cup (the stove not my…..nevermind).
When I cannot see a word(s) or understand what is being read to me, I refuse to go farther because usually I will not have a clue as to what is being discussed which just thoroughly pisses me off.
From now on I promise to always read at least a little ahead AND to read a few comments looking for clues before calling on Google - totaling ruining my supper and pissing my angel off when I insisted I was not making it up (she was not near a computer when I called).
I started off reading (and hoping to laugh) about Sidestepping the Bombs of Parenthood and my mind is now filled with, lets see: Diva Mariah (great knockers), My Diva stove, bra cups and balls cup (men’s sorta thongs) and women’s
I am THE bitch from hellmenstrual cycles.And my ex-wives wonder why they could not understand me; my teachers wondered why my attention span was shorter then my… AND I wonder why I read some people’s blogs…. Sheesh…
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And here I was thinking that the Diva Cup was a women’s tennis tournament trophy!
Well, I take comfort in knowing that there are still things I don’t know about the world. Never too old to learn…well, okay maybe there are some things I’d rather not know.
I’ll never think of ‘diva’ quite the same way again!
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lol. i have a diva cup as well. its not just kids you get grossed out by it. i may have gotten over excited telling my parents about it when i discovered it existed.
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Lolol! Mine was stealing my tampons to pretend they were dynamite with his friends when he was 7.
Hey just wanted to let you know that I have a giveaway going on at my blog for a year’s subscription to Every Day Food magazine, if you’d like to enter
The giveaway closes around 10 pm Wednesday November 19th.
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So curious about this. I had no idea that this existed until this post…
really?? No disposables? Comfortable? How do you clean that?
I’m so intrigued…
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Heres to my 2 girls!!! Thats so funny. Im going to that webpage now…
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Come on, ask him, I really really want to know what he thinks you do with it on your boobs? It is killing me! HEE! I need a life!
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Ha. That story was great.
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i’m torn between laughter and wonder. what is this thing? do you like it? how long have you been using it? inquiring minds want to know!
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Eeeew, Diva Cup.
I liked what someone — can’t remember who it was, and I’m too lazy to check — said above, about the DC being a boobie shaper.
:D 
Your poor kids.
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Oh, god. What does he think you DO with it on your boob?
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I totally need to see a photo, should the situation arise.
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What the hell is a Diva Cup?
No. Don’t tell me.
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I’ll be at the therapist with your dog. We’ll make sure to leave room for Frick and Frack. How lovely this was to be the last thing I read before bed tonight. I’m going to have wonderful dreams - thanks!
Curse you, Google! You hold entirely too much information and wield it without prejudice…
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i panic every time one of my children picks up a tampon. i’m SO not ready for that discussion just yet.
your boob. hilarious. imagine his SHOCK when he learns what it’s rEALLY for
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OK I had to click over having apparently been sheltered until I came accross your blog. Pretty cool. Will have to own one myself I believe! To bad it won’t get here today!
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I’m on birth control FULL TIME to prevent endometriosis so I don’t have to worry about Diva Cups, etc.
But I sure ENVY having two little slaves to help with housework. We have two adorable dogs, but as they lack opposable thumbs, they are of no help cleaning up and never will be.
On the flip side, they’ll never come home pregnant, drunk, failing classes, beaten up, tarted up or bullied. They’ll never have to be driven to soccer, hockey, ballet or daycare. I’m all so good with that.
Even given my child-free state, this is one helluva funny blog. I’ve read all the archives and this one made me snort today!
Reminds me of the time I fluffed out my mom’s tampons and thought they were like bunny toys or something. I think I was in Grade 3 and I took them to school and played with them in the playground. Don’t know if my mom ever found out but if she did, I’m sure she was mortified. Bwhahaha.
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LOL oh my goodness, that poor kid…. a Diva Cup…
Don’t tell him, guys don’t need to know everything!
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LMAO…oh my, i’ve got tears in my eyes. thank you i needed that. i’ve got myself the keeper (like the diva cup) & i luv it. i keep imagining you finding your dog running around with it fastened to it’s head…tooo funny
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Oh. Lordie. bwa-ha-ha-ha!
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I think Frac is right. Put it on Thatcher’s head. buhahahahahahaw.
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You are hilarious!!
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Holy crap! That’s hysterical. thank you so much for letting us in on your life. It’s a joy.
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LOL-dunce cap!
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HILARITY. Men are silly. Although, so is the name “Diva Cup”.
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ok, i’ll admit i’m stupid and didn’t see it coming… because i took a HUGE gulp of diet pepsi just as i got to the word “BOOBS.”
my computer screen is a little sticky now.
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snort and giggle. poor kid. years from now he’s going to remember this and wonder if you knew what you were doing with that poor Diva Cup.
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Did he think it was a fake nipple?
Boys. I have no idea what goes on inside their heads.
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As a mother of a 12 yo boy myself- I just had a full body shudder at the thought of this scene. I don’t plan on clueing my son on these issues until well into his senior year..WHAT?! I have time.. ROFL
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It’s good to be a guy. Just not your little guy.
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I agree with the masses - what did he think you did with it anyhoo?
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Thank you for the smile you brought to my face.
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OMG!!!! Laughing hurts, but I’m doing it anyway. YOUR BOOBS! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *snort* *chortle* I can’t wait to explain all that wonderful female plumbing to my 2, and now potentially 3, boys. Maybe I’ll leave that for a camping trip with Dad… Then again, G-d knows what kind of crap they’d come home repeating. LMFAO Way to go, T!
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The maintenance alone would freak me out with the Diva Cup. Really, there is nothing “Diva” about having a period.
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I think I’m the redneck! I’ve never heard of such a thing! I thought does she put it on her BOOBS? EEWWW.
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I love my Diva cup. I don’t have a son but I try to keep mine hidden just in case a visiting male relative finds it. At least my husband is glad he doesn’t have to pick up tampons at the store anymore
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I know this is an old entry Missy, but I just bought one of these things and LOVE it. When I told Sam I bought one, she piped up “Tanis has one and she blogged about it.” You should totally write about this on CMB - it would at least make for an easy entry. Though not sure how you would make it “Canadian” except that your bird is Canadian. Hahaha…
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