Lea: “I don’t know, Nathan. Ask your dad.”
Bo: “Ask me what?”
Lea: “He fell and hurt himself in the, uh…”
Bo: “In the groinular area?”
Lea: “Yes.”
Bo: “So what’s the question?”
Lea: “Is there anything he can do?”
Bo: “Yes.”
Lea: “What?”
Bo: “Wait for it to quit hurting.”
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I once ranted to Hizzoner that there are two kinds of pain a man will never understand: childbirth and bending back a fingernail.
He retorted that there’s something a woman would never understand: getting one’s John Thomas caught in one’s zipper.
For once, I had to concede the fight. He got me.
Mirth, you can tell him with confidence that he just has to wait it out. There is nothing in the world that alleviates it but time. Worse, it’s often delayed. You can get the blow, and actually have time to think “wow, this is really going to hurt like a mother in five seconds.”
Kemtee, now that’s another situation. I was talking about blunt force above. If you actually manage to lacerate the ol’ John Thomas, it’s an instant situation, because it has about 485,000,000,000,000,000 blood vessels in it. I’ve, uh, trained myself to eliminate it as a possibility. It’s worth that effort.
And I once pulled a pallet over my bare left big toenail and roughly bisected it.
He told me the next day that he thought it was bruised. I asked if there was a bruise in that area and he said he didn’t know but “it sure felt like it”.