Watch For Falling Testicles

Ann Brown

By: Ann Brown

God help me. We are getting a puppy.

We almost got one a few months ago but there were some undescended testicle issues that put the brakes on that one. Which turned out to be fortuitous since this next puppy, thankfully, is going to be a girl. One set of testicles – undescended or otherwise – is all I can handle these days. As it is, after 32 years together, Robin still piddles when I come home from work. Well, he does pee in the backyard every day when he comes home from work. I have all the testosterone-driven male impulses I can take around here.

What is it with males and peeing outside? I mean, Robin has his name on the actual deed of our house; he doesn’t need to mark his territory anymore. Maybe he worries that the squirrels are trying to buy us out or something.

I don’t have anything against boys, per se. I raised two and I adore them. But as an entire gender, let’s face it, boys are weird. For one thing, they totally think that their penises make them super hot. I will stand naked in front of the mirror only if I am court ordered (which would be a very effective deterrent to crime. “Mrs. Dr. Strangemom, you have robbed from the workers and given to the Tea Party. You are hereby sentenced to stand naked in front of the mirror for twenty minutes. In harsh light. And WITH your glasses on, Madam. And no squinting.”) No thanks. I want to be cremated with my Spanx on.

Robin, on the other hand, will stand naked in front of a mirror just to give himself a extra little confidence boost before going out into the world. He will pose and turn and do that Vegas shooting-your-finger thing at his reflection.

“Dude,” his Penis will say to him, arching up for a High Five, “get a load of us. The girls are gonna be pretttty lucky to be near this.” And Robin’s brain will nod in agreement, in respect, in awe of Penis. And Penis will say, “let there be testosterone” and a sea of testosterone will course throughout Robin’s body. And Penis will say, “this is Good.” And He will piddle a little bit on the rim of the toilet seat. And He will not wipe it up. Because, you know, he is Penis.

And Robin will look at me looking at him, and he will wonder if I am as turned on as he is. And Penis will tap him on the shoulder and whisper to him, “don’t let her harsh your mellow, dude. We are awesome.”

And Robin and Penis will prove their awesomeness by going into our suburban back yard and peeing on the hydrangea.

So, yeah. This next puppy is going to be a girl. Which means her issues with be will her weight, finding the right bra, and hitting the glass ceiling. I can’t wait to teach her about Spanx.

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