Leaving things where they ought not to be

I just read an amusing post on the Sugarbutch Chronicles, So then there was the time I left my dick in the laundry, and it reminded me of a few times I have done something similar.
There was the time, long ago, when I left my first Hitachi out on the side of the bed.  My eldest was about 7 or 8 then. He came in while I was folding laundry, picked it up and held it aloft for his dad and I to see. “What’s this, Mom?”
Dad and I exchanged a quick look. “Oh, um, that’s a back massager,” says my quick-on-his feet Ex.
For the next 20 minutes I had to endure as my 7 year old son gave me a “back massage” with my Hitachi vibrator. When he asked me to massage him–it suddenly “broke.” (Ex pulled the plug without the Eldest seeing.)
The funniest part was about two months later, when my ex-Dragon-in-Law was over visiting and she complained about her back hurting in front of him. I could see it happening like it was in slow motion–his mouth opening and the words coming out, “Mom has a back massager, Gram! You should get her to use it on you!” but could do nothing about it. Me, sweetly: “Too bad it’s broken!” and then moving on to the weather. Fast.
Another time I put Big Blue (a favorite dildo) and my Njoy butt plug into the dishwasher, turned it on and forgot it was in there. A couple of hours later I heard my pseudo-Father-in-Law puttering around in the kitchen.  I remember, at the same moment, that a) my sex toys are in the dishwasher and b) he always unloads it. I never flew up the stairs so fast, Ad right on my heels. While he distracted FIL, I whipped those babies out and spirited them back downstairs where they belonged.
Once I also left my Njoy on the bathroom counter, swathed in a towel, after washing it. We’d had some great butt play and buttsex, and I’d washed it and left it to dry while I went back in the bedroom to do I-don’t-know-what. Ten minutes later, I hear a bedroom door open and the bathroom door close. We hadn’t even known anyone was home (it was my daughter’s ex-boyfriend, when he was staying with us.) I never knew if he looked in the towel that was on the sink or not.
I like it that sometimes W or I will wash a toy, a gag or butt plug or a dildo, or you know, a pipe with a trailer hitch on it, and then leave it on the shelf next to the bathroom sink in his upstairs bathroom. Living alone, with no family within 500 miles, has its advantages.  On the other hand, there was a time when he was video-chatting with his daughter in his office. I sat across his desk, behind them. As I glanced around the room, I realized that the headcage was sitting on a corner of his desk, in plain sight if he panned the webcam just a bit to the left.
As unobtrusively as possible I leaned over and covered it with a towel.