Rubbing My.. Penguin?!

I have to preface my little story here with a potentially embarrassing admission. In a haze of whimsy awhile back, I became the (satisfied!) owner of an "I Rub My Penguin" *ahem* personal massager. <wink wink nudge nudge>

Said massager is kept in the top drawer of my dresser, which is well-known as a kid-free zone.

Or at least it was until my four year old came downstairs yesterday and asked why I keep a toy with my clothes. At a loss for words, I rushed up the stairs and there it was -- merrily buzzing away in the middle of my open drawer.

After a brief facepalm moment, I explained to #2 that Mommy has some special things that are just for mommies(!) and that just because something looked fun to play with it didn't mean he could play with it without asking. I also reiterated that the top drawer was not a place for boys to be getting and that if I had something in that drawer it meant I did not want him and his older brother messing about with it. I then turned off the black and white flightless offender and firmly closed the drawer.

On the way back downstairs, #2 turned to me and asked, "Can I play with it tomorrow?"

Oy.