illustration by David Chelsea for the New York Times 

Poor Lori Jakiela. Not only does she have to put up with a fairly grueling children's birthday party for her son ("The boys fought over who got to eat the head.") but she can't even get her rocks off on that brand new sex chair with her husband. Not since little Locklin claimed it for his own.

“Hey, mom,” he yelled. “Thanks for the cool chair.”

I was horrified. The chair had lived up to the ads. It looked almost normal. Funky, oddly shaped, but it did blend in. If you didn’t know what it was.

When I went downstairs, Locklin was straddling the Esse. A platoon of little plastic army guys was lined up along the curves, like an invading force on a ridge. He was holding one of the bigger army guys and making gunshot noises and yelling, “Let’s go, let’s go” and, “Look out!” and, “Aaaarrrrgh!” 

Yeah, if our kid were found on a sex chair saying pretty much the same things she was hoping to, we'd have a hard time recovering from that too.

LINK: NYTimes.com: The Plain, Unmarked Box Arrived