Thursday, November 16, 2006

Scarred Children, Unscarred Balls

The kids and I spent four hours at the childrens' exhibit in the museum today. On the way home, they passed out, so I pulled into the garage, turned off the car, and took the baby into the house, leaving the bigger kids to sleep for a bit longer. Once I'd nursed J back to sleep, I went out to wake the big guys--only they were already awake. And freaking out.

The poor kids had awakened to find themselves strapped into their seats, alone, in the dimly lit garage. They'd screamed for me for at least a few minutes before I meandered out there. My bad. Hopefully I'd banked enough Good Mom points at the museum to outweigh that little whoopsie.

So D thought he was getting a vasectomy today. (Screw lunch--the genitals of your significant other are a great source of post material!) As it turns out, the appointment was just a consultation, to give him an overview of the procedure and provide him with his specimen cup, which he doesn't need until March, when the actual procedure will take place. Why the heck would they give him a specimen cup now?

I'd like to wrap this up with a happy thought about the reprieve granted to my husband's scrotum, but we've just scarred another child. Baby J has a cut on his finger and is bleeding, and is requiring my ministrations.

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