There comes a time in every parenting couple’s life when the two of you must consider the question: do we want more children? Are we closed for business or should we continue to people the world? Well, in Chris and my case, we are without-a-doubt-126%-stick-a-fork-in-me D-O-N-E. Slam the shutters tight, roll up the carpets, lock up the doors, and throw away the key– my uterus is no longer available for sublease.
But what to do to ensure that we don’t have an unplanned “caboose” on the Reichert train? Well, in theory we both agree that Chris should get a vasectomy. It’s permanent, it works, and most importantly, it doesn’t involve any action on my part. (The third point is a major selling point- at least for me.) So on paper, we agree that this is the right thing for us. And we’ve continued to agree for the last 26 months; time and time again, Chris assures me that he is on board with this plan. Yet, we (or really rather, Chris) have not taken any action. What is a wife to do? Should I start shopping around for doctors? Schedule it for him myself? Honestly, I don’t even know who to call. How do you even go about coordinating something like this? And then, I had an epiphany…
Imagine if you will: you pack up your husband for a weekend away with the boys. Think three days in Vegas- how could he say no? He and his best buds will arrive in Sin City and be whisked away to a casino/resort on the Strip. It will provide all the typical amenities of a high-end casino but with one very important addition…that’s right, SNIP SNIP!! I mean, how brilliant is this plan?!? I’m envisioning the Wynn/Canyon Ranch/Mayo Clinic/Hooters all rolled into one central location. So many advantages:
- While in most cases, guys like to go it alone (example: when was the last time you saw a group of guys go to the men’s room together or shop together?), I think this could be a solid case for strength in numbers. By going as a group, it would be a bonding experience…sort of a rite of passage into the world of sterility. Being part of a group would also ensure that the guys actually man up and go through with it instead of chickening out. Who wants to be the lone coward who couldn’t endure a teeny tiny outpatient procedure? They’d never live it down. By the way, the merchandising opportunities for the casino on this point is ENDLESS….boxers, beer cozies, baseball caps, medical supplies, commemorative t-shirts, frozen peas. You get the picture.
- For me as a wife, I would gladly outsource any caregiving duties to a buxom Las Vegas nurse. By the end of the day, after I’ve tended to countless boo-boos (both real and imagined) for my girls and their entourage of dolls, stuffed animals, and make-believe friends, I have very little sympathy for any ailments my husband may have. The best I could muster in this situation would probably be to tell him to “walk it off, you wuss” and to “try squeezing a bowling ball through your urethra TWICE and then come talk to me.” If he finds a better bedside manner with Nurse Tiffani or Jazmin, I’m all for it.
- The guys could recuperate in peace. Rather than having a wife wondering whether he’s well enough to come open a jar of pickles or being surrounded by offspring who have an uncanny propensity to strike them accidentally in the groin area at any given moment, they’d be free to recover with no such interruptions or dangers. They could order room service or sit poolside while a cadre of nurses, health aides, and waitresses cater to their cocktail (and medicinal) needs. The casino could have a giant movie theater in-house stocked with jujubes, popcorn, and ice packs. Or, they could just sit on their asses and do what 99% of the Vegas population does: gamble their life savings away! Maybe they could start small and just bet on who of their group will cry during the procedure and have to call their mommy. Or, they could take advantage of a veritable cornucopia of games that require little to no physical exertion: black jack, mah-jong, poker, roulette, craps, baccarat, pai-gow, Texas hold ‘em, slots..can you tell my husband goes to Vegas a lot? And the casinos would literally have a captive audience. You think drink service can be slow at the tables? Just try to get someone to push your wheelchair away.
I haven’t thought out all the details but I think I’m on to something. I know! Maybe if they gamble enough, the casino would even comp their surgical procedure. I mean, who says the house always has to win?