Page 72 of Ancient History

A crash of glass downstairs broke the magic.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

“Pop is like a bull in a china shop.” Concern washed over his face. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

“Just so you know, if we ever do this again, we’re doing it at my place,” I said.

“Baby, we are so doing this again.” He kissed me goodbye and off he went.

Alone in his bedroom, I returned to my walk down memory lane. But there was one thing I needed to make sure he still had. Taking quiet steps, which was difficult with creaky floors, I went to his closet and found the shoebox for his Vans.

He hadn’t worn Vans in years. It didn’t matter. The lube and condoms he kept were still there. I thanked the angels that his dad never cleared out his room and turned it into a study or greenhouse or whatever empty nesters did with their kids’ bedrooms. But my heart sank when I checked the expiration dates. Both the condoms and lubes expired six years ago.

Did condoms and lube really expire? Or was this a marketing gimmick that forced consumers to buy more?

I GoogledCan you use expired condoms and lube?

Expired condoms were drier and could break more easily. While there were no known dangers of using expired lube, there was a chance that bottoms could experience burning.

It was just a chance!

I’d climbed a damn tree. I was invincible! I could handle a little potential burning. Maybe…

Was this a cruel metaphor? Had our relationship passed its expiration date?

Hutch returned and clicked his bedroom door shut. “Pop dropped his beer bottle in the kitchen. It’s the third time he’s done that this month. I need to wrap this house in rubber. Speaking of rubber…” He pointed at the open shoebox at my feet.

“I think our sex life expired.” I showed him the expiration dates.

“I forgot I had those.” He squatted down and sifted through the box. “Good times.”

“No more good times since it’s all expired.”

“You can’t use this stuff after it’s expired?”

“According to the internet.”

“Oh, well.” He shrugged and got up. “I guess you can go home since we can’t have sex.”

He opened up the window. The rattling of the branches outside were their own evil cackling laughter.

“Okay?” Why even bother climbing onto the tree again? I should just jump out the window and plummet directly to my death. We were cockblocked by time.

He went to his nightstand, where he produced fresh lube and condoms.

It was a Christmas miracle!

He tossed the boxes my way. They were in their pretty, fresh packaging.

Hello, friends.

“I got these recently,” he said.

“How recent?”

“On my way home the night we blew each other.”

“You got lube and condoms after we said we weren’t going to have sex with each other?”

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