Lori Misplaces Something Very Important (and it’s not her passport or her virginity)

by Lori Dwyer on July 2, 2010 · 22 comments

~~This one’s not a guest post, it’s all mine. Although quite frankly, I should probably pretend it happened to someone else~~. ~~So scrap that last sentence.~~ An anonymous guest post!!!

Once upon a time, there was a young wench named Lori.

One Saturday morning, Lori and her devoted, loving betrothed, the Man, awoke at the peaceful hour of 8am, to find their children still sleeping.

In the land of the Purple House, this was indeed a unique and exciting occurrence.

“I doth think we should partake in a bit of nookie” intones the Man.

Lori retires to the powder room to grapple with her troublesome contraceptive, the Holy and Glorious Diaphragm. This Diaphragm has been the source of many a happy adventure. It lives in small, white plastic case in the bathroom drawer.

Whatever-oust. Nookie was had, and all was well in the land of the Purple House.

That is, until approximately two hours later, when the land of the Purple House was hit by the dreaded Gastro Monster. Lori and the Man realized, too late, that it was under the Gastro Monster’s spell the children had slept so peacefully.

Three days and three nights passed. The children, Lori and the Man had recovered well and continued about their daily business raising cows and harvesting crops ~~on Farmville~~. On the nigh of the third day, The Man turned to Lori and said

“Does thou fancy a bit of nookie?”

“Indeed, my Lord, ~~with your pork sword~~“, replies Lori.

And she skips up to turret stairs to grapple with her friend the Diaphragm.

Lori creeps down the hall, past one, two sleeping children. Tiptoes into the bathroom, and by the light of the lamp in the hallway, cracks open the drawer….

…. but when she got there, the diaphragm case, it was bare!!

Oh fuck.

Lori sent frantic message via carrier pigeon to her fairy godmother, the health line nurse, who attempted not to giggle whilst she reassured our heroine all was well, and to see the local surgeon and drink a brew of newt’s eyes and mugwort if signs of tepid infection became apparent.

Lori, fraught, came close to throwing the Holy and Glorious Diaphragm in the pig slop receptacle. Then, she remembered the tragic days of yonder Pill, when she wanted to stab her husband and run over random strangers with her car. And she decided to hang onto her hallowed contraceptive.

But she never forgot to remove her diaphragm ever, ever again.

*This asterisk doesn’t refer to anything in particular, this whole post needs a freaking asterisk. In my defense, diaphragms are supposed to be left in for six hours after… nookie…. and I normally just leave the plastic case out so I don’t forgot about it and an incident like this does not occur. But somewhere in my vomit and fever, I must have put the case away. Personally, I think it’s just a miracle I didn’t turn the Man’s second request for nookie down the way I usually do. Or things could have gotten really…. uncomfortable.

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