Yada Yada Yada on sex and my manhood

I don’t know. All this talk about sex and my manhood.

It started when this post simply shared our updated family photo and the news that while the Family Dog is now in our annual shot, our family won’t get larger because I’ve had the snip-snip, that is a vasectomy.

My Obstetrician Babe gave her own thoughts on FB and said considering what women go through with birth control and childbirth (and let’s face it, guys, all that other female plumbing stuff) that it’s pretty good of men, that it’s even “manly,” to have this simple procedure out of consideration when the time is right.

I thought she had a point. I mean, first of all, the snip-snip was rather simple, less invasive and painful than say, plenty of dental work.

And since the procedure was carried out a couple of years ago – I can also report with some confidence that the pleasure metre is still ringing the bell, so to speak, very fully and adequately.

One Dude, however, has piped in to say that he knows better.

Yes, he wrote My Babe to tell her that he knows, in fact, that sex between My Babe and myself is not as it should be, not as intimate and soul-filled. He says we’ve made a “grave error” with this sort of birth control (or others), that no, so sadly, we’re not able to give of our whole selves and, (yawn), yada yada yada.

Of course, the world is filled with all sorts, something that has always been good for the newspaper industry … and now social media.

But even in this Strange New Time we haven’t yet reached the point where the average couple can have their level of intimacy or soul satisfaction read on internet. So I’m not sure how The Dude is so confident in this, his fantastic knowledge.

But there’s more. During their conversation (when My Babe gently pointed out why indeed it’s quite fine to practice birth control outside of just The Dude’s prescribed natural method) The Dude also pointed out that, speaking of manliness, it would be more manly of me to simply be “continent” more often.

You can understand the resulting confusion on this one. I mean, I always thought I have been continent for most of my adult life (but not all of it … you don’t know developing world sicknesses).

My Babe then gently suggested to The Dude that maybe he should have used the word “abstinent,” that it would be more manly of me to just keep my pants on and wait for it a little more often like The Dude apparently does.

But once again The Dude set us straight. No he said, according to the documents that form his understanding on all this, the common term for keeping your pants on is actually “continent.”

And, in fact, if you were to look in the good Oxford or Webster’s, you’d find that while “abstinence” would certainly make more sense as the word choice in this sort of discussion, The Dude is not completely wrong with his own word choice either.

So I’ve now learned that I’ve lost my manliness. And I’m not continent either.

It hasn’t been a good week.

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