The I Rub My Duckie spends most of its life sitting on my mantle. It works great as a vibe should the need arise, but there's something about its overwhelming preciousness that makes me a little averse to pulling it out for frequent use.

When I was first presented with the purple little buddy (yes, purple, it comes in purple) by my girlfriend, I blinked repeatedly and tried to fathom what mindset I would need to be in to design that. Clearly the purpose is discretion, being able to hide a sex toy in plain sight, right next to the shampoo and loofah. And I can even bend my mind to kinkier places and think about the fun of using such an innocent-looking toy for prurient desires. But ultimately, the novelty and cuteness are its undoing.

By myself, I would, in fact, only choose this toy if I were devoid of any other options. The strength of the vibe is fine: nothing to write home about, but it'll get the job done better than most ducks. Use is easy enough: pop a battery to the compartment on the bottom and turn the dial. No more frills necessary.

But while the rubber is smooth and has some give, it's a strange shape to try to hold in your hand. It gets awkward after a while, trying to grip it without growing a little tired. Because it is pretty curved, it can be slippery when wet, making it harder to grasp. Obviously since it is waterproof, and likely to get wet whether used in the bathtub or not, this is a consideration.

For these reasons, I rank the I Rub My Duckie as better for someone with arthritis than a heavy or more tubular-shaped vibe like the Hitachi, but less helpful than a wearable vibe like the Sweetheart.

There are curves on the toy that lend themselves to being pressed up against the labia and clit, but no clear-cut optimum spot where the pressure is best. I found that the best position for use with a partner during penetration was in doggy style (great, now we've got two animals involved). It stayed out of the way there, while being a little too big and bulky for positions like missionary.