Posts Tagged With: stories

Doris, Dinah and the Dancing Dild. . . e-r-r “device”…


The women were sitting in the kitchen at the table while the men were in the living room watching “the ballgame”.

GOOD! Now we were free to run our mouths without worrying that the men might be listening to what we were talking about.

These conversations were always  the most fun.

This particular Sunday we were talking about my Aunt Dinah’s job in the shirt factory. Dinah was in her 60s at this time and worked with young girls in their 20s who, apparently, had taken it upon themselves to enlighten an ‘old country girl’ on the ways of the modern world. As Dinah told us of the things she had learned the past week, she suddenly said to my two cousins and me, “Girls, I’ve got a question for you.”

“Okay, Aunt Dinah, what is it?” we replied, never expecting what came next.

“I want to know what in the world is a DILLLL DOH?”  she said with her very southern drawl.

With bemused expressions, Brenda and I immediately looked at our cousin, Vicky because Vicky is her daughter. Everyone at the table was looking at Vicky, waiting to hear how she was going to delicately answer this question.

“Well,” Vicky began. “It’s something that is used for… uh…well,” she stammered, ” when a woman is single or if they don’t want a man then they could use this.” she stammered.  Once she finally got a description out, we all looked at Aunt Dinah to see her reaction.

“Well, I’ll be!”  said Aunt Dinah, shaking her head in amazement as we all breathed a collective sigh of relief, then everyone started laughing!

That was only the beginning of this story… 

My mom, Doris and her sister Dinah are the masters of practical jokes. Vicky (Dinah’s daughter), Brenda (her mom was Betty, the oldest of the sisters), and me (Patti) decided that we would FINALLY get them back for all the years of torture from the practical jokes they have played on us. Oh yeah.. we cooked up a good one! Vicky was going to go buy a dildo and I was elected to place it where they would be certain to find it. Brenda was going to keep them busy while I hid it where it was sure to be found.

To be certain they didn’t make the connection, we waited about 3 months before carrying out this plan. Vicky got “the object” and I placed it in a brown paper bag under the passenger seat of my mom’s van. Aunt Dinah and momma ALWAYS went to the post office in town on Saturday morning, which just so happens to be the busiest day at the Post Office. The parking lot is always full! Mom goes in and Dinah sits in the car and waits. While waiting she always plunders to see what new things Doris has placed in the car. Oh yes! That was a great plan! They’d find it right there in the Post Office parking lot.

On Sunday, Vicky, Brenda and I were at the farm as usual and were just about to bust!

“Did they find it yet?” we whispered to each other. “I don’t know!”  “How can we sneak out to see?”

Mom asked me to go to the garage and get a couple of bags of peas for dinner. PERFECT! The car was in the garage. I could sneak a peak and they’d never know it.

When I went out to the garage, the durn van was LOCKED! Momma never locks the van.  How will we ever get the keys?

That Sunday was a bust for “Operation Dildo”. We just could not locate the keys and check in the car without causing suspicion.

Once dinner was over and the kitchen had been cleaned, the men went to the back den to watch a ballgame and we were free to talk openly. Dinah had heard a joke at work this week and wanted to share it:

There was this old lady whose husband had died. Because they had an active and passionate sex life up until the day he died, the ‘widder woman’ asked the undertaker if he could save her husband’s penis for her in a jar. The undertaker, unfazed,  agreed. After the funeral the undertaker gave the “widder” the jar containing her husband’s penis. She went home, sat at the kitchen table and stroked the jar.  The undertaker had been thoughtful enough to preserve it in its …errr… largest state by placing a spring in it.  Before long she just couldn’t resist. She opened the jar.

When she got the jar lid off, OUT popped the penis and it started bouncing around the kitchen floor. Well that “widder woman” jumped out of her chair and started chasing it around the kitchen with her skirt hiked up dancing around and shouting, “Here it is honey.. here it is!”

We all cracked up. First of all, this just wasn’t like Aunt Dinah,  she actually used the word ‘penis’ instead of tallywacker!

Next Sunday.. same thing. Locked car. Couldn’t get the key.

About a month went by before we could safely check the car.  IT WAS GONE!!!!

Okay, we knew they had found it, but why didn’t they say anything? Did they know what it was? The one Vicky bought was BRIGHT pink and did vibrate, but it did have the ..er.. ‘correct shape’, so they must know. We were just about to die from our curiosity!

After dinner, Dinah left the kitchen while ‘we girls’ did the dishes. When she returned she had a brown paper bag with her. Vicky, me, and Brenda all had our backs to her, the others were sitting at the kitchen table, watching. We hear this ..whirr..whirr.. sound and as the three of us turn around to see what it was, there was Aunt Dinah hiking up her skirt and dancing around this bright pink, vibrating dildo  hollering, “Here it is here it is!”

Dinah had found that brown paper bag. The very next Saturday after we hid it!

There we stood with our mouths hanging wide open in disbelief as our aunts and roared with laughter!

We learned from this to never,  NEVER underestimate these old ladies! They outsmarted us once again. They planned out their revenge very carefully, they patiently waited months and even made up that joke to get us back for embarrassing them in the Post Office parking lot. Dinah had found the bag and pulled out this bright pink dildo right there in the parking lot for everybody in town to see, so we must be taught a lesson! 

My mom, Doris looked at the three of us and said, “Girls, let this be a lesson to you. Old ladies are hard to fool and have a lot more patience than you youg’uns!”

“Yes ma’m.” we replied in unison.

<sigh> Oh well, at least we got to embarrass ’em a little bit.

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