Next week I will have something in common with the family dog and cat . . . well sort of
In a little less than a month I will turn 53 – I will post my address for you to send cards and letters at the end of this article.
So why am I telling you this? Well you see, I have 4 children under the age of 7 . . . I will now pause to give you the opportunity to make the obligatory face I usually get whenever I share this information.
Suffice to say having children this young (and at this age) means that luxuries such as sleep, quiet dinners with the missus and going through the day wearing clothes that have not become a palette for the kids’ meals are little more than a wistful recollection of times past.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being a father as the joys of parenthood far outweigh the minor inconveniences of dirty diapers, 2:00 AM wake-up calls and the occasional sibling scuffles.
That said I also know that while children can keep you young at heart, at 53 you are constantly at odds with your body and its capabilities . . . or lack thereof.
For example, this past week I attended my 7 year old’s field day at school. Flush with memories of my own participation in events such as the 100 yard dash and the high jump, I could not help but feel a reminiscent pride as I watched my offspring compete. It was as if I was young again. That is until I attempted to stand-up from sitting on the ground.
Have you ever heard gears grinding the wrong way? Well this was the sound my knees made as I got up to move from one event to the next. By the end of the day, this repeated exercise of sitting, getting up and moving to the next venue felt like an Ironman Triathlon. I wonder if you get some kind of a ribbon for being able to do this in the shortest period of time? I do know that they should give one to the guy who can go the longest between pees at night!
Anyway, how does this tie into today’s post and the comparison with the family pets?
Considering that I am only 2 years shy of getting the seniors discount at the local Denny’s restaurant, the answer may already be obvious to you. Specifically, that my days of being fruitful and multiplying should be replaced by afternoon naps and a weekly round of golf.
Normally I would bristle at such a suggestion. However, and as our 10 month old begins to settle into a manageable bedtime routine, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel in terms of not having to change diapers or administer late night feedings has suddenly become an appealing contemplation. At least as it relates to kids’ diapers (think about it for a minute and you’ll get what I mean here).
As a result of this epiphany of sorts I decided that it was perhaps time to look into ways that I could make the transition to a less productive state if you get my drift.
There are of course many options for both men and women in this area however, and after much investigation, the most effective means by which to achieve this objective is through a dah dah dah dahhhhhh vasectomy.
Of course in this journey towards a full night’s sleep, many thoughts run through a guy’s head. For example, will it somehow change my performance in the bedroom? After all, it took me years to perfect my 5 minutes of passion, roll over and snort myself to sleep technique that has made me the Antonio Banderas of the boudoir.
Will I become lethargic like the family dog and cat? I know that just the thought of having this “procedure” done has made me less inclined to chase cars the way I used to!
With these kinds of contemplations swirling around in my head, I headed to the doctor’s yesterday for what turned out to be a consultation. Unlike the barber shop you can’t just make an appointment to get snipped.
After assuring me that this was by far the best way to ensure that my bloodline ends with my youngest son, the doctor then told me that there was a guy . . . isn’t there always a guy, who specializes in this area. In other words, he is the vasectomy specialist to whom everyone in the region goes.
Furthermore, and unlike days past, there is no longer a snip-snip component to this exercise (by the way am I the only guy who cringes at the snip-snip reference?). According to my GP, the vasectomy guy uses a new procedure in which he inserts a long straw like device that cauterizes the delivery tube so has to prevent my swimmers as I will call them from getting out.
My GP also assures me that once done, it cannot be reversed. In other words it is permanent!
Now for the fine print . . . occasionally complications do arise. Whoops! I am not going to end up laying around on the floor like our dog licking my privates and looking at everyone with a glazed-over stare into empty space am I?
Pointing to his computer screen, my doctor reads from the “there is only a small chance this could happen to you so don’t worry but I have to tell you this anyway” list.
Included as one of the potential complications is a swelling of the tube through which my little swimmers formerly traveled. Apparently this can become blocked and somewhat painful. However, the condition is rarely serious in that the swelling and corresponding pain can be taken care of with a simple anti-inflammatory.
This leads me to ask an obvious question. Will my mast still be able to fly my flag when needed?
The GP assures me that the vasectomy will in no way negatively impact my abilities to stand up and salute when called upon. In other words nothing will change in the romance department. Good news for Jennifer as I will still be the 5 minute marathoner that she has come to know and love.
Anyway, the die has been cast, the paperwork submitted and by this time next week I will be a changed man in a manner of speaking.
The good news is that the entire procedure will be captured on film and shared with you on YouTube. Okay it won’t be, I just wanted to make sure that I still had your attention.