Babies: A Clear and Present Danger to Your Testicles
I was administering the Girl’s 4AM feeding over the weekend when she spat up. Nothing new there. The Girl spits up with every meal, which is normal. Doctors have a saying that spitting up, “isn’t a health problem, it’s a laundry problem.” This passes for humor in medical circles. It also explains the existence of “Patch Adams”. And you thought lawyers were humorless pricks.
Anyway, the Girl spat up. Usually, I’m well-prepared for this to happen. I always have the burp cloth over the Girl’s mouth ready to catch it and everything. I’m that good. Not this time. No, this time the Girl spat up and scored a direct hit into the hole of my boxer shorts, which was open ever so slightly, nailing my testicles with a heaping tablespoon of spew. You haven’t lived until your daughter throws up on your nuts. Quite a moment.
Compounding the problem was the fact that I had just farted earlier. Ever have one of those farts that smells like food, which somehow even makes it more disgusting? Well, there you go. So I had a pair of warm, formula-moistened nuts that I had to tend to, while the scent of Hunan Chicken wafted in the air. And I haven’t eaten Hunan Chicken in seven years. Disturbing. Unpleasant.
Even with that event aside, feeding the Girl isn’t fun on my nuts. The Girl is a shifty sort, so I have to constantly readjust to keep her upright. This inevitably means that my nuts end up falling between my legs, which means that I have to keep rescuing them, which means I have to hold the baby with one hand, rest the end of the bottle on my chin, and use my free hand to pull my nuts back up for air. This happens about three or four times every feeding. Mrs. Drew averts her gaze when she sees it.
Women don’t understand the scratching testicles phenomenon. They seem to think that grabbing your nuts is some kind of come on, or a form of pre-masturbation. It’s not. It’s strictly done out of necessity. But women don’t buy that. They just think you’re a pervert. They’re right, of course, but they completely miss the point. Typical.
The Girl has also gotten extremely kicky and has grazed the top of my nuts on occasion. This doesn’t hurt, but the Girl’s legs are bound to get longer, reach farther, and eventually hit paydirt. Unless she turns out to be one of those super midgets, something I now pray for every day.
Anyway, the Girl spat up. Usually, I’m well-prepared for this to happen. I always have the burp cloth over the Girl’s mouth ready to catch it and everything. I’m that good. Not this time. No, this time the Girl spat up and scored a direct hit into the hole of my boxer shorts, which was open ever so slightly, nailing my testicles with a heaping tablespoon of spew. You haven’t lived until your daughter throws up on your nuts. Quite a moment.
Compounding the problem was the fact that I had just farted earlier. Ever have one of those farts that smells like food, which somehow even makes it more disgusting? Well, there you go. So I had a pair of warm, formula-moistened nuts that I had to tend to, while the scent of Hunan Chicken wafted in the air. And I haven’t eaten Hunan Chicken in seven years. Disturbing. Unpleasant.
Even with that event aside, feeding the Girl isn’t fun on my nuts. The Girl is a shifty sort, so I have to constantly readjust to keep her upright. This inevitably means that my nuts end up falling between my legs, which means that I have to keep rescuing them, which means I have to hold the baby with one hand, rest the end of the bottle on my chin, and use my free hand to pull my nuts back up for air. This happens about three or four times every feeding. Mrs. Drew averts her gaze when she sees it.
Women don’t understand the scratching testicles phenomenon. They seem to think that grabbing your nuts is some kind of come on, or a form of pre-masturbation. It’s not. It’s strictly done out of necessity. But women don’t buy that. They just think you’re a pervert. They’re right, of course, but they completely miss the point. Typical.
The Girl has also gotten extremely kicky and has grazed the top of my nuts on occasion. This doesn’t hurt, but the Girl’s legs are bound to get longer, reach farther, and eventually hit paydirt. Unless she turns out to be one of those super midgets, something I now pray for every day.
posted by Big Daddy Drew at 10:47 AM
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