When my oldest son was around five or six, he had a favorite remote control tank. He loved that toy, but, he lost one of the treads, and without the tread the tank wouldn't operate. I arrived home one evening from work, and I found him, and his three best friends playing with the tank.
"Mom! Look Mom, I fixed my toy!" The favorite toy was presented to me for inspection. I scarcely glanced at the tank, but, congratulated my son for finding the lost part, then hurried inside to change out of my work clothes.
After I changed, I went back outside to supervise the boys playing in the yard. It wasn't long before the other mothers joined me on the front porch. We were talking when BB brought the tank to me, and pleaded with me to put the tread back on, as it had fallen off again. It wasn't until I took the tank and tread from him, that I realized that something was amiss. My precious boy and his little friends had spent the afternoon playing with that tank and the c*#k ring they had been using as an impromptu tread. Humiliation warred with relief, as I had been very aware that it had gone missing, several weeks, possibly a couple of months, prior to this incident.
I am nearly certain that none of the other mothers were wise to what had gone down, and I forced myself to put the 'tread' back on the tank and send him on his way. That night we did baths before dinner.
And Jen? Were you really worried about the Astroglide?