July 29, 2015

I thought twice about the headline for this post.  Talking about infant genitalia can probably get you in a lot of hot water and on a few lists I’d rather not be on, but I can’t help myself.

The other day the Boys had their first shots, which they handled like troopers.  The staff did the standard measurements and looked Arthur and Charles over from head to toe.  The Doctor went through all the results.  They’re both pretty much middle of the road percentile wise when it comes to height, weight, head size, etc.  Then he exclaimed, “Their penises are perfect!!”  He didn’t say it in a matter of fact manner or as a quick add on as part of the inspection process.  He shouted it aloud and in a way that convinced me has never seen dicks so majestic in all his years as a pediatrician.  And from the expression on his face when he said it, you would have thought that my sons’ penises are destined to solve the problems of our country’s economy and cure centuries of racial unrest.  Maybe he’s right.  Who am I to say.


(You can’t see Charles’ jewels here but take the Doctor’s word for it.)

So there you have it.  I have fathered the world’s only two completely perfect penises and I couldn’t be more proud of myself or delighted for the Boys.  When it comes to the part of the male anatomy that men are by far the most insecure about Arthur and Charles have knocked it out of the park. Their life should be a cake walk from here on out.

Then it occurred to me.  I need the Doctor to document this.  I need some report or certificate that states that their dipsticks are aesthetic and anatomic perfection.  Something they can carry around with them for the rest of their lives when they go on dates, job interviews or just want to impress their friends when they hang out at a bar on Sunday drinking beers and watching football.


I don’t just want it for them, I need it too!  Every parent likes to brag about their kids, but unless I want to have them drop their pants and display their junk several times a day, my boasting about my sons’ trouser snakes isn’t going to mean much without proof on paper.

If your kid is good in sports you can sit in the stands and cheer for him when he hits a home run.  What am I going to do?  Watch my son at bat and scream, “Protect your junk, son!  It’s absolutely beautiful!”  Do I run into the locker room after a game when the team is showering and scream, “Go Arthur and Charles, way to strut your magical peckers!!”  That’s not going to work.  No, I definitely need to get something from the Doctor.

Once I have the papers I need it’s going to be smooth sailing for the Boys.  I can’t see any downside to this.  Not unless they decide to go on a crime spree at a nudist colony and find themselves in a police lineup.  “It was those two.  I’ll never forget how breathtakingly gorgeous their penises were as they stole my purse.”

I used to dread diaper changes.  I usually would quickly glance at that area to make sure it was there and no more, kind of like not looking too long at an eclipse.  Now, taking their diaper off is like opening up the briefcase in the movie Pulp Fiction, where a golden glow emits drawing blissful smiles.  Of course sometime this golden glow is a stream of pee.

How did they get these perfect schlongs?  I have no idea how I genetically passed this on or what side of the family is responsible.  The holidays this year may be marked with me asking all male relatives to text me pictures of their junk.  But the holidays are always a little awkward anyway, aren’t they?


Least Favorite Child Totals

July 27 – Charles was Least Favorite.  This guy is NEEEEEEDY!  It’s flattering for a while, until you’re trying to piece together what’s actually going on with True Detective while he lays on your chest grabbing clumps of your chest hair.  Maybe he’s trying to tell me that True Detective is a waste of my time.


(Does anyone enjoy a sullen Vince Vaughn?)

July 28 – Charles is Least Favorite again for the same reasons.  Annoyingly needy.  If I were going to break up with him it would take at least a dozen times and then like any other needy person who gets dumped, he’d probably start up a relationship with someone I have to see everyday and give me guilty looks all the time.  Of course Arthur is so not needy, I expect his first words to be, “I’d like to go to college on the East Coast.”

Total Days as Least favorite Child

Arthur – 24 Days

Charles – 22 Days

Days Since Neil Patrick Harris Received My Post and Hasn’t Responded – 14