Pete: But, do you understand what they have to do to me? They are going to STAB A HOLE in my junk. This is traumatizing stuff.
Me: Oh, you mean traumatizing like when I needed to be stitched up after ripping my fricking hoo-ha to kingdom come only after having a spotlight on it for 8 hours? Cry me a river.
Pete: Fine, fine. You win. But it's still just a little bit scary.
Me: Ummmmm, still nothin'.
Pete: But then they're going to burn my gonads so my dudes can't swim.
Me: Did I mention that I still have hemorrhoids from pushing out our son?
Pete: Wow, you truly are a cold heartless shell of a human.
(He didn't actually say that; I made it up for dramatic effect.)
Is there something wrong with me? I can't muster one ounce of sympathy for my husband who is obviously a little nervous about the procedure. Was I so traumatized by labor that I'm thoroughly convinced that no one could possibly understand the pain? Do I feel anything at all??????
Ok, that last one was a little dramatic. This post feels like an episode of Days of Our Lives.