The Dildo, Part Two

The rules were simple. One person hid the dildo in a spot that another housemate would surely discover during their daily routine. Upon finding the dildo, the housemate must shout "OH NO! THE DILDO!" loud enough for anyone who was home to hear them. The housemate then had a responsibility of the utmost important; find a new hiding place for the dildo. In this manner, the game recycled, only one person knowing for sure where the dildo was at any given time.

This was the last semester of college. As the uncertainty of the real world loomed, we learned to appreciate the certainty of the dildo. In the morning shower, we'd reach for the shampoo and find a grey friend instead. Cooking dinner, we'd open the stove and find its little head peeking out from the rack. It was especially nice when a visitor would happen upon the dildo, wonder if they should just keep quiet to save us the embarrassment, only to be regaled with the storied history of our sick little game. The dildo was a cultural icon in our house, surpassing any of our dreams for it when we first saw it submerged in the creek.

But we all had the feeling that this was not the end point for our friend. The dildo was destined for greater things, and it was our responsibility as adoptive parents to get it there.

Tune in tomorrow for the exicting conclusion of The Dildo!!!!