My little cul de sac street is populated with a network of families with kids who have all lived here for generations. The parents gather by committee to choose the best school for their children and to make collective decisions for the street.

They also decide who is a danger to the kids. Recently, much to my surprise, I was put on the banishment list...

from the archives over at Hopeless Cases
(www.thechestapins.blogspot.com):

Oh, My Achin' Gonads!

Okay, so shortly after 3pm yesterday I underwent a vasectomy procedure. It was very odd: walking into a clinic by myself, sitting
in a room sans pants and waiting for the good doctor to come in.
First up was the shaving of the balls, then an injection of lidocane into the scrotum.

Several minutes later, with the family jewels nice and numb, the good doctor proceeding to make a tiny incision, snip my tubes, cauterized the endings and put me back together.

All in all I'd say it was comparable to any major dental work, like getting a crown or filling. You could feel pressure and there was the ocassional whiff of smoke. Although at one point I felt like my whole groin was cut open and that the good doctor hand both his hands inside noodlin' around with my wiring.

Last night there was a casualty in the kitchen. I managed to shatter a tall highball glass by attempting to clean down to the bottom. The shard sliced up my hand, and I instantly knew that it meant a trip to the E.R. So, my pregnant wife and our 2yr old girl (both still starving for dinner) got in the car to drive me to the hospital.

We were leaving playgroup the other day when I noticed a rather large grasshopper on the sidewalk. I picked it up and showed it to the 5 or 6 kids all standing around waiting for their dads. Most of them thought it was cool; one thought it was "ick!"

With only a few weeks left in 2006 I took some time to reflect on the past 11 months and have decided to name it the best year ever to be a stay-at-home-dad.

My son started sleeping through the night only a couple of months ago. Or so we suspected. My wife and I have determined that Andrew doesn't actually spend a restful evening in his crib. In fact it is our suspicion at sometime after we are all quietly asleep he escapes from the house to take night classes.