Just a little off the top, please.

My husband wanted two kids. I wanted three. We had two girls and he thought that was perfect. I wanted just one more little one.... We discussed it. We debated it. He scoffed. I pleaded - all to no avail.

Until we went to Mexico. A few gallons of Margarita's later and the next thing you know - Hello, Sailor! - now we have Thing Three. Everyone agrees that he perfectly complements our family. But if my husband could have had a vasectomy as they were finishing up my C-section I'm sure he would have happily done so.

Sagely he waited until I was capable of walking across the room before scheduling his appointment. When I told him that I would drive him he seemed surprised but didn't argue. The girls were in school and I brought the baby with me who I knew would sleep throughout. (Besides, everybody knows that men who are going to have their penis operated on LOVE to have their kids around them.)

The hubs was determined but anxious. He signed in and we made nervous chit-chat, trying to pass the time. Suddenly they called his name and off he went.

I quickly became bored with the sleeping baby and the Field and Stream magazines that were very abundant so I began people watching. The first thing I noticed was that this place reminded me of an adult bookstore. The people who worked behind the desk were women; the customers were all men. Also? None of the men were making eye contact. Their eyes were darting back and forth with desperation that screamed, "Please don't take off any more than you absolutely HAVE to!"

Some poor bastard walked in with a small brown paper lunch bag. He accidentally made eye contact with me and I smiled at him. He turned around and left. Five minutes later he skulked in with his back to the waiting room and mumbled something unintelligible to the nurse. She asked him to repeat himself and then looked at the bag in disgust and said, "Oh, NO, Honey! We don't handle THAT stuff up here! No, Baby...you need to take your SAMPLE to the back and give it to the laboratory!"

I really wanted to walk up to this guy and say, "Hey! I'm looking for a guy who was sitting in the parking deck, jerking off into a cup. Have you seen him??" But I didn't. I looked around at the pained faces around me and realized that I was the only person who thought that this was pretty damned funny. Then I wondered about what was going on with my own poor bastard on the other side of the door.

Here is what happened to him:

He was led into a medical procedure room that was precisely 38 degree's where he was invited to take off all his clothes and sit on the operating table that was made out of stainless steel. Seconds became minutes. Minutes became eternities. After 15 of sitting bare-assed on a steel table an enormous dark skinned nurse burst into the room. She didn't say a word but managed to capture his interest because she grabbed the end of his penis and yanked it - hard. (Like I said, it was really cold in there.) Anyway, she yanked "it" out of his abdominal cavity and TAPED it with medical tape to his leg. All without saying a word.

And then she left the room. It was over 20 minutes before the doctor came into the room.

When he told me about what happened I said, "Let me get this straight. You had to sit naked on a cold steel table for over 30 minutes before they even started the vasectomy?? And then a fat lady grabbed your dick and duct taped it to your LEG without even saying 'good morning' or 'please cough'?! And then she left you just sitting there - junk all taped up for 20 minutes??!"

It was at that precise moment I decided to quit bitching about pap smears. And I'll never look at frozen green peas the same again, either.