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So, in approximately four hours, if all goes well, I will be infertile.  You might think that I am nervous, but I am not.  I am looking forward to never reproducing again.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids, I just wish I didn’t have so many of them.  It’s a subtle difference.  I love them, but they can drive me crazy.  There are three kids in the house, and I think it’s too much.  I think about my sister who has three kids and how she raised them by herself.  It is a wonder that she is still standing right now.  I have a friend with five kids.  You read that correctly, FIVE!  She seems happy too.  Go figure.  My sister-in-law has four kids and they all have allergies.  I am pretty sure I could take out their whole family with a peanut and a slice of bread.

I tell my students that it is a good thing that babies and kids are cute; otherwise their parents would have killed them a long time ago. 

At an early age my daughter was safe. So cute!

This may sound cruel, but is true.  If you are reading this and have kids, you know it to be true.  Kids are messy.  They do stupid things.  My son, Isaac has literally fallen down the steps head over heels three times.  He is so fast pace, he simply does not think before acting.  I am convinced he will have several broken bones before high school.  Kids are super needy.  They can’t feed themselves.  They don’t clean up after themselves and they are constantly asking for things.  Some of the young ones even poop and pee on themselves.  It is like having homeless people live in my house, except I am legally obligated to take care of them.  In four hours, I am done, and I figure I have about five more years before my daughter is independent.  Kids are independent around five or six, right?

Another fascinating aspect of my impending vasectomy is the reaction of my male friends.  It seems that every male of procreation age has at least thought about the procedure of a vasectomy.  It ranges from paralyzing fear to extreme misconceptions.  For example, I am confident that some people think my balls are going to be cut off.  Others think that the doctor is going to stick a big needle into my scrotum or worse, my penis.  Basically, the procedure is simple. 

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I actually described the procedure in detail, but decided most of you would not care about it as much as I do.  If you do care about the anatomy of the male reproductive system, but do not want to do a google search on ‘testicle’ or ‘penis’; trust me, you REALLY REALLY do not want to do a google search with those terms, just google image search ‘vas deferens’.  What you get will be safe.

So, wish me luck and safety.  The procedure is not the issue, it will be the recovery.  I hope I will not add to the horror stories that I have heard about from other members of the ‘firing blanks’ club.  Nonetheless, I couldn’t be happier about losing my only super power, the ability to create life.  Anybody can make babies, it is the raising them job part that is seriously underpaid.

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There is one thing I am nervous about, my 3-year-old son’s height.  He is the worse height for this procedure.  He likes to punch.  I may have to tie his arms behind his back.  I’m just sayin …

My best friend for the next couple of days.

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