One of the greatest gifts I have ever received is an order from my urologist that I must ejaculate 20 times before I visit him again to confirm that my vasectomy “took.” During my early teen years, when the mere sight of a bearskin rug was enough to make my voice quiver and my inseam shrink by two sizes, throwing 20 bags was nothing more than an average afternoon at home with my mom’s Jane Fonda workout tape. But I’m older now, and married, and I’m not altogether sure that there have been 20 in any single year of our marriage, let alone in a one-month span. For this clinically sound, life-affirming request, Dr. Gardenburger, you will have my eternal gratitude.

This “prescription” has made me feel like I’m 15 again. I have essentially been ordered to be horny for the next month. (At least that’s how I interpret it.) So I get up early to watch Sesame Street with the kids now because something about Gabby makes me feel all funny and gelatinous inside. I can’t keep my hands off of Hot Wife, and so uncontrollable are my seductive gestures that I startled her when she was making turkey sandwiches for the kids yesterday and she almost stabbed me in the ribs with a mustard-covered butter knife. And when I sat in the doctor’s office the other day, I became so engrossed in the scented perfume ads featuring women dressed only in wings and rhinestone g-strings that I absolutely didn’t hear the nurse’s assistant call my name until she walked over, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Put it back in your pants, Mr. Evans. The doctor will see you now.”

I’ve wondered lately what it must have been like in my grandfathers’ generation, when people still believed that masturbation and sex for purposes other than procreation were considered sinful and a “spilling of the seed” that was an affront to the lord. In a society like that, I would surely have been locked away in an asylum and labeled a godless heathen. I suppose they could have labeled me whatever they wanted as long as the asylum had an ample supply of hand lotion and back issues of Cosmo.

Comments

Godless heathens unite!! Wack away young man!

And to think, I offered to take every even numbered one for my husband and he still wimped out on me!

Twenty, huh? So how many times can you have this procedure done? I would two or three times a year.

so, what are you reading, right now? I don't think the jews had those restrictions, btw. So, no guilt - at least not over that.

I thought Catholics cornered the market on guilt.

I believe Catholics learned guilt from Jewish mothers.

When my husband had his done, the doctor told me that it was my responsibility 3 - 4 times a week for the six weeks.

nay 20 times in a YEAR?? come on, that's being drastic, isn't it? 14 yrs of marriage here, 5 kids, and I must say, it's slowed down to maybe 15 times a MONTH! You oughta be outta that 20 times within two weeks, if you work at it, heheheheh. Half ( or better!) the fun of marriage is having a ~partner in crime~ for all those intimate moments...

"... I’m not altogether sure that there have been 20 in any single year of our marriage..."

Okay, maybe I don't miss being married after all.

You ought to be enjoying a lot more whoopie after your snip. Afterall, isn't that the point?

Isn't Hot Wife helping with this? At least daily? Part of it was for her anyway.

Seconding the chorus of "you don't have to do it all by yourself" - when my lovely one got his testiskilled I was on my knees with sheer eternal thankfulness alone, so I figured, while I was there... (wink) Make sure also to go back with a sample to make sure you're really shooting blanks ... do as the post-op says, y'heah, now? Your kids are SO, SO incredibly CUTE, btw. Those eyes! Cheers, and come over and visit my blog sometime, alright? http://chocklate.blogspot.com

Okay..you are quite hysterical. I'm thinking that the whole vasectomy process was worth the 20 times? Considering us married couples lack so sadly in that department. And why is that???
Anyhow, thanks for sharing I think. :)