Who am I kidding?

While we’re waiting for my appointment with Dr. Featherhands, let’s dive a bit deeper into some of my reasoning for getting a vasectomy in the first place. I mean, it’s not like I just have a hankerin’ for pain in my patriarchal pouch.

First of all – I’ve got two kids already – one boy, one girl. The wife and I have successfully reproduced ourselves to carry on our genes and namesakes. And ultimately, we’ve created a couple of slaves to take care of us, once we’re breaking our hips and peeing ourselves.

$$ Financials $$
Yep, kids are expensive. Hey look, a chart!

Screen Shot 2013-09-09 at 1.49.09 PMAnd then they go to college.

It takes a village to rob a bank and raise a child. You see, on top of that spooky graphic, there are a few more teensy weensy costs we would need to endure. A new house. Our rooms are already filled with love and people and toilets. A new car. The truck has maximized its load. And all that ridiculously priced baby equipment like car seats and strollers and cribs and Tickle-Me-Elmos and crap – we already gave all that away. We’d have to completely start over.


Health – Our Bodies Ourselves
At my wife’s current undisclosed beautifully sexy age, her body will not think pregnancy is very awesome anymore. It adds weight and strain. It steals nutrients and rearranges all the hormones. Here are some stats:

PRESENT PREGNANCY PITFALLS
1/3 chance of miscarriage
1/66 chance of chromosomal abnormality
1/106 chance of Down Syndrome
1/10 chance of birth weight lower than 5.5 lbs.
1/3 chance of kid growing up to be a neglected, pansy crybaby


Sanity – It’s Crucial

Oh yeah. And I’m not interested in anything like this:

family-largeThe vagina is not a clown car.

I do not want my life to be incessantly surrounded by loud, banging, clanging chaos. I don’t want there to always be a mess to clean up. I don’t want there to always be an argument to break up. Or a booboo to kiss. Or a snotty nose to wipe. Or a turdy ass to scrub. I want to get old with some peace and quiet and serenity. If I spent 20 more years yelling and griping it would become some sort of ingrained habit. Then I’d end up a grumpy old fart. And nobody likes that guy.

Now, as if health and sanity and money weren’t reason enough to make the snip – there’s another reason. There’s a much more yummy and sweaty and gropey reason. But that deserves its own post.

Hump Day should work.

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