Monday, December 6, 2010

My Husband, the Goat

Scott got his vasectomy last Friday, and when I picked Will up from school, I told him we were going on a date, just the two of us, because Ben (sick with croup) and Daddy were both at home resting.  He asked why Daddy was resting, and I told him he had a procedure done at the doctor’s office.  Here’s the conversation that followed:
Will: What kind of procedure?
Me: It’s called a vasectomy.
Will: What’s a vasectomy?
Me: It’s a surgery so Daddy can’t have babies anymore.
Will: MOM!  Daddies can’t have babies!
Me: Oh, sorry.  I mean, Daddy can’t make babies anymore.  You know how it takes a mommy and a daddy to make a baby?
Will: Yeah...
At this point, he paused for about thirty seconds, and I thought my explanation was enough (I wholeheartedly believe in giving children correct answers to these kinds of questions and think it’s weird when parents tell their kids weird things because they don’t feel comfortable talking about sex.)  But then, he floored me with this:
Will: You mean like when we went apple picking? (which we did in October)
Me: Um...what do you mean?
Will: You know when we went to that house?
Me: Oh, the house with the goat farm?
Will: Yeah, and they had to put the boy goats in the boy barn and the girl goats in the girl barn, so they wouldn’t make babies.
Me: That’s exactly what it’s like.
Scott recovered quickly from his stay in the boy goat barn and is back to work this morning.  And I am SOSUPERDUPER glad that we will not be having any more kids. MAA!


  1. It is a relief not to have to worry about contraception.

  2. Congratulations! Also, I'm sorry Ben is sick with the croup. You know how you always say we're so the same? Well, check this out.. Saturday night we went to an outdoor boat parade and Isaac had filled his flask with whiskey to keep him warm. When we got home, he was laying on his back on the bed and I thought it was hilarious to sit on his stomach. I informed him that he had the croup and kept pouring the "medicine" from the flask into his mouth so I could treat him. Then I would laugh hysterically when he would choke and cough because the whiskey would sting his throat. The croup! What are the odds? For real. I only even know about that because of the baby in Anne of Green Gables.