The Socialites are teenagers and there is no return policy for them. They are horrible and I’d love for them to just go away, but that means that I have to drive them somewhere and then keep up with them and make sure that they’re actually where they are supposed to be. Did I mention that I hate teenagers? I can’t do their homework. I’m not smart enough. I had tits in high school, so that wasn't a problem.

I have to get up at 6:00 am to do hair and make-up. I style outfits the night before, but in case there are any last minute hiccups, I handle those too. Needless to say, mornings are a bit hectic around the house. Four dogs want to be fed and Rocky doesn't get out of our bed until at least 11:00. Spoiled dog. We try to have backpacks and purses changed out and packed up the night before, but we’re lucky if that happens. Sometimes it’s midnight before bed because of homework, but grades come first!

One day I noticed that $50-something was missing from my purse. Hell hath no fury. I went into D1’s room and didn't even know where to look. I've never tossed a room before. I opened her bedside table and saw a few bags stuffed to the brim. Curiosity got the best of me and I opened them to find a few of MY sex toys! There was a vibrating egg, a bullet, and my Nexus G-Play. What. The. Fuck? I also found condoms. That’s one thing I was proud of. I put everything back and had a talk with her when I picked her up from school. I told her that if she wanted a toy, I’d get her one. I’d be glad to get her something very nice that would last. I’d teach her how to take care of it. She actually didn't seem like she was going to die of embarrassment. Well, maybe a little.

I still wanted my money back. Heathens. But my first priority was making sure that my kid knew that instead of just taking something that was mine, she could come to me and ask any question that she wanted and I’d be happy to tell her whatever she wanted to know.

Both of The Socialites know that I review sex toys. I mean, my God – they’re everywhere. The Husband says it’s impossible to walk through this house without tripping over at least one dog and six dildos. I want to be open with my kids. I want my kids to be open with me. I know that this is a time of experimentation for them, but I've told them that they don’t have to go through it alone. That doesn't necessarily mean stealing my vibrators, but hey – we've got to start somewhere – and by the way, that’s going to make a hell of a Thanksgiving story in a couple of years.

I still want my money back. Heathens.