Monday, June 25, 2007

V-Man Arriveth

Mo's post about leaving baby-making-hood is lovely, isn't it? I think Mo captures a sense of the impermanence I sometimes feel in this parenting gig.

I will 'always' be the father of these two kids. That is immutable. But I and they will not be the same we as today. We aren't the same now as we were at 6:30. I will slowly decay (or not slowly) as these kids develop rapidly into whoever and whatever they will be for a day, a moment, as they forge their own identities, and so on. Then I'll be dead but I will still be their dad. When they are feeding the worms, I will still have been their dad. When the space people the foilhat-wearers are telling you about come on down for the harvest none of that will have changed. It's really quite a tiresome subject, actually, but I've got tonnes of time to reflect on these weighty matters as I recline at home with a bag of frozen peas on my gonads.

Mo's post is rather timely from a practical perspective. I am off the hook. My phone has been disconnected. We cannot have any more kids together unless we use the frozen material which is, I suspect, on account of the miserable porn available at the clinic (Field & Stream... are you getting hard? I thought not) and in no way a reflection of my, um, material. I have reconciled with this new state of affairs.

The much-anticipated, ballyhooed event has at last taken place, hence the peas, the elevated feet, the increased rate of media consumption, and the application of frigid pulses to my genital area. I will say little about the procedure. Most disconcerting moment: smelling something burning and realizing it was me. Most enjoyable moment: oh, hahaha. At least mine wasn't like this guy's chop job. Local anaesthetic and a scalpel... nooo! I live in a secular nation where men are not punished for taking this anti-procreative step, I guess. In any event this task is much simpler to face than the whole gestation through to forcing a human out of your privates-thing which is, of course, what I am trying to avoid.

Mo has been lovely enough to give me some time to take off some weight. As a result I have had the opportunity to watch some movies, read some books, and read some blogs during the convalescing parts of my recuperation. I viewed the intensely lowbrow (Smokin' Aces) the pompously meaningful (Babel). I am reading two books. One is serviceable: (Devil in the White City) and the other amazing: (The Yiddish Policeman's Union). The capper: the zenith of tennis on tv. The downer: a former finalist engaged in tawdry "realistic" romance with cougars and cubs. (Oh, Mark... what the fuck?)

I read somewhere that Eddie Murphy fathered a child with "Mel B." My first thought: not another transvestite, say it isn't so! Perhaps I am a little out of touch.

V-man out.

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Blogger N. said...

Have you given Mo the good news: in order to get your sperm count down before your 6 week post-op checkup you need to have sex? Lots of sex. Mind you, it must be safe before it can be REALLY safe sex, but still its a good deal.

And if you need some more reading material, Wordgirl's post about her husband being snipped is very funny.

Maybe wait until the stitches have healed, though.

11:15 p.m.  
Blogger Granny said...

Hope the swelling and aches subside quickly.

12:07 a.m.  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Um...I tried to find a card that conveyed the heartfelt message, "I hope your nuts are well on the road to recovery!" Unfortunately, nothing close was available (and i thought Hallmark had a card for EVERYTHING!)

As usual, I agree with you on most everything else...Yiddish policeman good. Mark Phillipoussis bad. Mel B scary. Babel a trifle pompous.

Enjoy the convalescence!

6:03 a.m.  
Blogger Bon said...

rest in peace, gonads

8:13 a.m.  
Blogger Crunchy Carpets said...

I am impressed with you two being able to say just two for sure....

dh and I cannot state that..we are not ready to say no more..not yet.

10:49 a.m.  
Blogger BITE MY COOKIE said...

speedbag your manhood in the nards!
good on you. that's exactly what love is all about.

can't wait for our trip to the frozen pea aisle. july 5.

hope you're all recovered by now.
crackadamias are the new matzo ball soup. wink. wink.

2:43 p.m.  
Blogger CroutonBoy said...

I don't think I could ever do it, even if we hit our perfect combo and wanted out. My boys and I have so many fond memories...they don't deserve it, do they?

On the other hand, at least you get the extra media time, right? Kung fu movies for all!

12:24 p.m.  

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