The Condom Conundrum

The condom conundrum

(Note: This post is not “kid friendly-mother approved”. As a matter of fact; don’t tell my mom about this at all, okay?)


I haven’t had to deal with birth control in 19 years. I haven’t had to deal with condoms in the 10 years since I married Del. I had some trouble mastering the fine art of birth control so like a puppy, I got fixed.

I haven’t thought about condoms in years. I’ve had zero reason too. I mean, I educated my kids about condoms but I never had to go out and buy them for them. They gave them away at school and family planning.

I know one of my kids was using them when he/she was a teenager. (I’m not allowed to say who or even give you a clue. I’ve been threatened with bodily harm.) This kid left a pile of them (wrapped and unused) under his/her bed when he/she left for the military.

I had no use for them and the other kids we had left living at home understood that sex was like buying beer. There was an age they could have sex and that was 35 or after my death, whichever came last.

I know it’s wrong to have different sets of rules for your kids of different genders. I don’t give a good diddly squat. Having a son who is having sex isn’t the same as having a daughter who is having sex.

First off, it’s okay for your son to be doing it, because in a mother’s mind, they probably really aren’t. Since baby boy’s are born, they are always playing with the thing, pulling on it, talking to it, showing you how far they can pee, protecting it from being zipped up in their footy pajama’s (I did that once)- there is always an event going on with a boy’s penis.

As they get older, it’s still a topic that is always at risk of being on the table. (Not literally. Gross!) There are conversations with their buddy’s from anything about how much bigger one is than the other (or smaller) or actual threats of violence with it. “I’ll slap you in the forehead with my ****.”

Boy’s and men are happy about their bits and pieces. There are constant adjustments being made, I think to make sure it’s still there or there is a lot more activity going on in a man’s pants than I really want to think about. Clothing is bought to either enhance or make room for everything in there. There is special equipment designed just for the care and protection of this certain appendage, it just goes on and on.

Men like there penis’. I’m very happy for them. I think ‘penis envy’ is the stupidest term I’ve ever heard. I don’t want a body part that I have to deal with constantly; my hair is enough work, thanks.

And I don’t come by all this knowledge just from having one son. I had 4 brothers, a father, a step-father, three husbands and a partridge in a pear tree.

I have been introduced to the penis. What I don’t get is why guys whine about condoms. A condom is so simple- unwrap, apply, use, dispose. They don’t even have to get off the bed.

They must be unaware that all forms of birth control for women are always intrusive.

Women get to face things like surgery, pills, shots, different types of appliances, foams, jells, things that need to be inserted by contortionists, rings, sponges, caps, sticks, bowls, barriers, spermicides, homicides, germicides, masonry’s, whips, chains, electrical fences…

Why do women allow men to have sex with them? If I wasn’t fixed, I’m not sure I’d bother with it all. Women can’t just decide to have sex at the spur of the moment, appointments must be made or a window of time must be allotted to insert things. It’s a real mood killer if you ask me.

That’s why I go fixed. I like things to be efficient and effortless.

Laying in bed and unwrapping a package? They cry about that? Shut the hell up or I’ll slap you in the forehead with my right breast. (It’s the bigger one)

Bill and Del were talking about going to the store and buying condoms. I didn’t know how complicated this was going to end up being.

The grocery store down the end of the road from us sells them but they are in the front of the store locked up in a glass case next to the baby formula.

I swear I am not making that up. You need assistance to buy both condoms and baby formula. If you ask me, the formula is a better form of birth control- don’t you agree?

Birth control is only guaranteed to work every time if place firmly between the knees. Does it matter what you are putting there if you want to be guaranteed not to get pregnant?

Anyway, they couldn’t buy condoms there because…

Hum, I really don’t know. They just couldn’t do it because it was behind a locked case and they were going to have to ask for assistance I guess. There is a guy that works there that has a huge crush on Del and that freaks him out enough. Personally, I like the guy. He and I have had some fun conversations about Del.

So they went to Wal-Mart and walked up and down every isle looking for condoms but couldn’t find them. “They don’t sell them.” Del told me.

“Of course they do. Did you ask at the pharmacy?” I asked Del.

*Gasp!* “No! Two guys can’t walk over and ask where the condoms are. What are you thinking?” Del said.

“Why? Are you afraid they might think that one of you might be getting laid?” I asked.

“No” he said with a tone of ‘dumb-ass-ness’ “We were afraid they might think we were both getting laid, you know what I mean?”

Oh.

Well, that’s dumb.

“They have to sell condoms. They sell other crotch related stuff.” I said.

“Yeah, well the next time we go, you show me where they are.” Del said.

“So what did you do?” I asked because I didn’t think buying something like condoms was going to involve multiple stores and gallons of gas to do.

“We went to Walgreen’s. We figured they had to have them there.” Del said.

“And did they?” I asked because I was at the point of forming my own condom store in my head. If they are this hard to get here, I’m sitting on a goldmine.

Not literally. The packages are slippery and I could fall.

He rolled his eyes at me. “Yeah but they weren’t that easy to find either. I finally got sick of the whole thing and yelled ‘where are the condoms?’”

Oh, yes. That is far more discrete than asking a pharmacist where they are.

“Some guy a couple isles over yelled back ‘Isle 9!’ Bill said.

“So we looked up to see what isle we were in and Bill booked it over to isle 9.” Del told me. “I left the store.”

I shook my head. “Why?”

“Because now everyone in the store knew we were shopping for condoms. One guy said something to me and I held up my left hand to show him I was married and he said ‘oh, you’re not getting any anyway’ so I had to leave.”

“You know people are going to have their suspicions that you have had sex at one time when Em calls you daddy, right?” I asked.

“Yeah but it’ll be obvious that I didn’t buy a condom.” He explained.

Oh, what is wrong with this man?

Bill was really embarrassed about buying condoms by himself too I guess. I think he bought a bunch of other crap to cover them up.

So this posed a question in my mind. Was it a man thing, or a Milo, Maine thing?

I called and asked other crew members about condoms but Brother is the only one I’m allowed by threat of death to talk about. The death was mine or theirs. “If you say anything, I’ll die, just die!” “If you say anything, I’ll kill you.”

I called Brother to ask him about his personal condom buying experiences.

“I go to the hottest cashier I can find to buy condoms.” Brother said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because she’s going to take one look at me and think to herself ‘now someone is screwing him and there must be a reason for that because he’s not pretty’.”

That is not true; Brother is pretty- he is covered in pictures.

Other than his fear of cows, Brother isn’t afraid of anything (which is something to keep in mind when teasing him about said fear of cows). Brother will go to the store and buy anything. He has bought tampons in his full bike gear, including the helmet.

Condoms? Bah, who cares?

“Have you looked at condoms lately?” Brother asked me.

“No, why? Are there new developments?” I asked.

“Shit yeah.” He laughed. “Check them out next time you go to Wal-Mart.”

“Del said they don’t sell them there.” I told him.

Brother laughed “Bet him something BIG. You need wheels, right? Bet him his truck. They sell them. They even have some that vibrate now.”

In the background (we were still on the phone) there was a scream “Dude! Are you talking to your sister about vibrating condoms?”

“Yeah. I’m telling her they sell them. I’m not suggesting we try them out you fucking stupid hillbilly.” Brother answered his incredibly stupid friend.

Someone on Brother’s end of the phone was looking for a slap in the forehead with something.

“Seriously Sister, they sell them. I swear you will win the bet.” He said before we hung up.

So the very next time Del and I had to go to Wal-Mart, I made the bet with him. “Okay but I’m telling you we walked up and down every single isle.” Del said.

So if they walked up and down every isle, it means that they blackouted the end isle where the tampons are sold. Neither one of them can get those to register in their minds.

Tampons, pads, yeast infection medication…all crotch related stuff, right? Condoms have to be there.

They were! And Brother wasn’t kidding. Condoms do almost everything but the laundry after the act. They glow, vibrate for 20 minutes, are super thin or super thick, have nubs, rings, stuff for her pleasure, and stuff for his pleasure (which I don’t get. He’s having sex- that his pleasure, am I wrong here?) They have different sizes, flavors and colors.

Sold separately is stuff to heat up or tingle your condoms. I had no idea Wal-Mart had such a wealth of sexual aids and fun.

“I’m going to need your truck to get to work, okay?” Del said as he disappeared around the corner.

Me? I stood there and looked over the condoms for a few minutes. It was a whole new world and I was fascinated.

So if you haven’t checked out condoms lately, I suggest you do. Make a big bet with someone who fears the feminine hygiene isle. You’ll score big.

LYMI