Gather 'round, children! We're about to learn something new from our very best friend, The Maven!
Hey, kids! Glad you could all be here today! Wow, there sure are a lot of you. Is it possible to sit the quiet ones closest to me? I'm a little frazzled today and I need to be near people who know how to use their indoor voice.
Oh, and ixnay the osenay ickerpay, will you? Move him far enough away that he can't wipe his fingers on my shirt. Gross me out.
Perfect. Thank you.
Now, kids, we're going to learn about my very favourite word. Actually, it's not always my favourite, but after the day I've had, it gets top billing in The Maven's Dictionary of Awesome Words and Stuff. It's a toughie, so I'll say it slowly and you can say it along with me. Ok? Ok! Here we go:
Va-sec-to-my. Va-sec-to-my. Vasectomy. Very good!
It sounds like a lot of you have never heard that word before. That's okay, you'll likely hear it again in about thirty years, either out or your own mouth, or from the poor woman who is suffocating under a pile of your offspring. I'll pull out my pocket dictionary and hold it up so you can all see - and I don't mean that as a play on words, kids. Your teacher is looking a little pale right now because she understands what "play on words" means. Lighten up, teach, and go get me a coffee, will you? My tax dollars pay for what's percolating in the staff room. Don't worry, the class is in good hands. I am The Maven, after all.
Anyway, here's what the dictionary says about our new word:
Vasectomy is a minor surgical procedure wherein the vasa deferentia of a man are severed, and then tied or sealed in a manner such to prevent sperm from entering the seminal stream (ejaculate).
I see the confusion in your innocent little eyes. And the nose picking from the kid in the corner, I might add. Is that a stress reliever, little man? Tell your parents you need a therapist. There's no shame in it; they probably have one, too.
Don't worry about the technical garble, my little friends. That mumbo jumbo doesn't mean much to you or me or anyone who doesn't have to actually perform a vasectomy. Only doctors have to care about that stuff. We need only to know that it helps mommies and daddies regain their sanity. "Sanity" means your breakfast gets made every day and you don't wake up to find mommy making little origami animals in the middle of the night. It's a good thing.
Let me explain how vasectomies work:
See, Daddy is an oil truck that never runs out of oil. Just when it looks like the tank is empty, he refills it. Kind of like the snot in little Timmy's nose. It's just always there, ripe for removal.
Mommy is a factory that assembles people-- Yes, little Sally, kind of like the Play-Doh factory. The difference is that Mommy's factory doesn't involve shoving some goop into a tunnel and squeezing out... Actually, it's a lot like a Play-Doh factory. When you get to high school, be sure to ask your guidance counselor about Harvard scholarships. You're a freaking genius in the making.
Mommy's factory has a furnace that needs oil from the hose coming out of Daddy's truck. If enough oil reaches the furnace, the factory lights turn on, buttons press and pistons, uh, pist, and the intricate and beautiful process of creating life begins. Nine months later, a gorgeous little human is shipped from the factory and into the loving arms of Mommy and Daddy.
Isn't that a sweet story? I'm getting a little teary. Timmy, stop hogging the tissues and give me one. You're pretty damn proficient with those fingers, anyway.
Eventually, though, the factory workers get tired. Building two or three of four of these baby models gets a little much. They start dreaming of warm beaches and looking at people in swimsuits who's bodies have never grown a baby. So, the day comes when the factory needs to be shut down permanently. There are some things Mommy can do to make that happen, but they involve a lot of demolition and renovations that are uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous. Besides, why does Mommy need to do everything? Why can't Daddy take some responsibility sometimes? I mean, it's always up to the woman, isn't it? "Are you on the pill," and "Here, hold the baby so I can go watch football," and "What do you mean you feel 'touched out?' I have needs too, you know," and...
Sorry, kids. I got off on a little tangent there.
Anyway, the point is that if your Daddy wants his truck to still park in the factory hanger on a regular basis, he's going to have to tie a knot in the hose. Otherwise, Mommy might be too exhausted from dealing with the tantrums and the fighting and the screaming and the crying and the throwing and the destroying and the tattling to want anything to do with Daddy, lest she get more of the same in another nine months or so.
And that is what a vasectomy is. My boys' daddy willingly had one, and on days like today, I am most certainly glad he did. In fact, when I am done with our little info session, I may make him some tea and kiss him and tell him thank you, thank you, thank you, three is more than enough and please excuse the twitching; it will go away once they've been sleeping for a couple of hours.
Any questions?
