Back from the nuthouse.

So, the vasectomy procedure is complete. I’ve returned home from the chop shop and am now sitting comfortably numb in my rocking chair. As far as I can tell, everything has gone according to plan. I mean, I can’t really feel anything, but I can see that I have all the important stuff still intact.

I have been prescribed about 5 days worth of antibiotics and a little Vicodin for good measure.

And for the next 48 hours, the doctor has very specific instructions.

Slob on CouchTake six football games and call me in the morning.

Well now, this ain’t so bad. I have license to be a complete lazy slob. The wife is being extra nice. The kids are bringing me beers and drawing me pictures. I even have a few friends coming over later to help me watch t.v. Plus, they’re bringing food – including some testicularly themed Deviled Juevos.

I don’t have to cook anything.
I don’t have to fix anything.
I don’t have to put anything away.
I don’t have to wash or clean anything.┬áNot even myself.
I don’t have to let the stupid dogs out.
I don’t have to let the stupid dogs back in 30 seconds later.
I don’t have to watch Dragonball Z.
I don’t have to watch The Suite Life of Zack & Cody.
I don’t have to watch Jessie or Barbie or any other singing and dancing bullcrap.

I just have to sit here, kick my feet up and concentrate on creating a dank, aromatic cloud of sedentary bliss.

Well, at least until the anaesthesia wears off.

Or the wife’s patience.