Wildly Inappropriate, Even When I Don’t Mean To Be

A few weeks ago a co-worker approached some of us about a program her church was running where people fill a shoe box with small gifts, and they are sent to children in Africa for Christmas. You get to select the gender and an age range for a child. Many people in my department thought this was a really sweet idea and decided to take a box for each of their children and have them send a box to a child of similar age and gender in Africa. One of my co-workers took two boxes and designed a date night around her and her fiance each filling a box. Wholesome family fun with a charitable twist.

So, this past Monday night I head to my local Dollarama to fill my shoe box with hair clips, note books, pencils and candies for a 10-14 year old girl half a world away. I meandered up and down aisles, trying to recall the things I enjoyed at that age, while keeping in mind the logistics of life in Africa.

That’s when I stumbled upon this.

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Yep, that’s exactly what you think it is. Right in the middle of the Irish Spring and the pregnancy tests. The irony of its location was not lost on me. And look at that price! That’s one hell of a deal! Especially if the batteries are included.

So, the moral of this story is that even when I try to have a wholesome evening, an evening where I channel my inner Mother Teresa, I still manage to find something completely inappropriate. Sex toys – they sneak up on you when you least expect.

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