Oh. Shit. -- Part II
Mostly, we had a happy ending.
Shortly after I emailed the post, I decided to suck it up and call my father and VERY CAREFULLY ask if there was an envelope on the counter. The conversation went thusly:
Me: So... uh... did I happen to leave a manilla envelope on the kitchen counter?
Dad: yes you did.
Me: Uh... please don't look in there.
Dad: Why?
Me: No reason. Just... not for your eyes. At all.
Dad: Okay...
Me: Actually, can you toss it in the den on my stuff. Or even in the dining room?
Dad: I'm just... going to leave it where it is.
Hang up with him and have a nerve wracking next hour or so, wondering if he'll actually NOT look or if it'll be the little kid syndrome. Don't touch the stove... what does the kid do? Touch the stove. Had a ton of drama at work involving a new credit card machine and my being unable to transmit the batch for whatever reason which involved me driving back to the store after leaving to call boss and explain. Get home around 7:40 and mom's home.
Enter envelope still sitting on the kitchen table.
Run in. Grab it.
Mom: what's that?
Me: *on way up the stairs* noooothing.
Mom: So, where are you going with it?
Me: To my room.
Mom: What's in it.
Me: just never you mind.
So... I can only hope they DIDN"T see what's in there. Mom, would likely be a bit better with what it was as she and I share romance novels. But as I was wibbling with wook77 romance novels and sign-ups for a pr0n fest are two VERY different things.
Last thing I needed was my father seeing a request of: Snarry or Harry/Draco, kinks: D/s, BDSM and rimming.
Crisis Averted.
I hope.
Shortly after I emailed the post, I decided to suck it up and call my father and VERY CAREFULLY ask if there was an envelope on the counter. The conversation went thusly:
Me: So... uh... did I happen to leave a manilla envelope on the kitchen counter?
Dad: yes you did.
Me: Uh... please don't look in there.
Dad: Why?
Me: No reason. Just... not for your eyes. At all.
Dad: Okay...
Me: Actually, can you toss it in the den on my stuff. Or even in the dining room?
Dad: I'm just... going to leave it where it is.
Hang up with him and have a nerve wracking next hour or so, wondering if he'll actually NOT look or if it'll be the little kid syndrome. Don't touch the stove... what does the kid do? Touch the stove. Had a ton of drama at work involving a new credit card machine and my being unable to transmit the batch for whatever reason which involved me driving back to the store after leaving to call boss and explain. Get home around 7:40 and mom's home.
Enter envelope still sitting on the kitchen table.
Run in. Grab it.
Mom: what's that?
Me: *on way up the stairs* noooothing.
Mom: So, where are you going with it?
Me: To my room.
Mom: What's in it.
Me: just never you mind.
So... I can only hope they DIDN"T see what's in there. Mom, would likely be a bit better with what it was as she and I share romance novels. But as I was wibbling with wook77 romance novels and sign-ups for a pr0n fest are two VERY different things.
Last thing I needed was my father seeing a request of: Snarry or Harry/Draco, kinks: D/s, BDSM and rimming.
Crisis Averted.
I hope.