Saturday, September 02, 2006


The deed is done. Mr. Chick had his wings clipped yesterday. He took one for the team. Because our team? Is as big as we want it to be. 2 kids are enough for us. A family of 4 fits us just right.

So Mr. Chick went under the proverbial knife (don't worry, in vasectomies today there is no scalpel, only a single tiny puncture, and no stitches) and got sterilized. He walked around yesterday on vicodan with his unit packed in gauze. He's a little tender today, but nothing traumatic. Nothing like birth. Nothing a little Band-Aid can't fix.

I mean, how bad can it be when the doctor TELLS you the remedy is to have as many orgasms as you can in the coming weeks/months??

regardless of how easy it's seemed to be so far, I don't think he'll be shaking his moneymaker on the dance floor tonight at the wedding we're going to. That might be pushing it too far too soon. Which is fine by me - I'm going to be wearing my tall strappy heels and can't really pull off much dancing in them anyway beyond the White Girl shuffle, so we're a perfect fit: him with the swollen package and me in killer, useless shoes. Oh what a pair.

I love him for it.

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