In the mean-time, I snagged the low-tech option of my magazines.

Nothing gross of course. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things they have on the top shelf these days. One had a picture of a woman hugging a giraffe in a way that I don't think I should elaborate on.

I'd settled for some of the less-terrifying choices and stashed them under my bed. If there was ever a place that I could keep my parents away from it was under my bed. They saw it as a barren wasteland of hastily-shoved-together mess filled with memories of my Lost childhood.

I saw it as a barren wasteland of hastily-shoved-together mess I occasionally stuck my arm into before yanking out something random and declaring something along the lines of, “My Gameboy! Sweet!"

In any event, despite my parents' archaic views on teenage sexual impulses and their annoyingly tech-savvy monitoring of my online activities, they had no clue about the magazines under my bed. In fairness, given the state of things under there, they would have had to clean out the entire thing to find out where I slid those images of fleshy treats. My old teddy bear, Mr. Splodge, marked out the spot.

(I'd turned him to look away, of course. I'd grown up, but Mr. Splodge remained a constant, if slightly ruffled, youth and things such as my masturbatory aids weren't for his eyes.)

I was thinking about those magazines and notably the image of two particularly sexy blondes making out in front of a Large fireplace when the phone rang. Dammit. I rolled my chair across the floor to reach for the receiver.

“Hey Larry, you alright?" My mother's voice settled in amongst a crackling of traffic. She was in her car.

"Yep." I slowly rolled back over to my bed and lifted the covers with my foot to see the vast assortment of crap hidden beneath.

“Is your dad home yet?" She asked.

“Nope.” I ducked down to look under the bed for the familiar sight of

Mr. Splodge's head.

“Ok, well I'll be home in about half an hour." She phrased it almost like a warning. I'll be home in half an hour, then you'll speak to me in full utterances young man!

“Cool. I'll see you then." I blandly added.

"Alright." Click. No traffic sounds.

I hang up the phone and crawl down to reach for my prize. I'm knelt there for five whole seconds before the phone rings again. I sigh with frustration, pick myself up. and snag the receiver once again.

“*Lo?" I venture.

“Larry, is that you?" Dad this time.

“Yup.”

"Oh." A slight pause. "Is your mother home?"