Circ? You Mean Like Cirque Du Soleil?

I'm starting to learn that parenthood brings up a lot of questions that you never necessarily though about before and sure as hell don't have answers to.

Brian mentioned that his workplace was offering some sort of special on will-making this weekend. Personally, I'm not sure I want my will drafted up on some sort of buy-one, get-one free deal. I have a strong suspicion we'll show up and some dude who reeks of pot will be drafting wills on coffee filters out of the back of his van. And sadly, this will not have been the shadiest thing I've participated in.

Regardless, as we were holding the meatloaves, we started talking about our end-of-life wishes. I volunteered that if I was brain-dead, he should probably pull the plug, lest I contract some weird hospital virus and become a zombie and force him to smash me in the head with the nearest IV stand. Brian felt that if he was a paraplegic, he didn't want to live. I told him that he could still lead a fulfilling life as a paraplegic (I mean, look at Stephen Hawking). He thought about it and then said, "Well, I guess. Maybe I could get prosthetics."

I'll give you a moment to let that last statement sink in.

So we were laughing at the image of Brian asking the doctors to amputate his legs and arms and having prosthetic limbs attached and then still not being able to move them.

And then the nurse came in, and we were talking about the boys, and she eventually asked, "Are you gonna circ?" And I honestly for a second thought she was inquiring into my future plans as an acrobat for a traveling circus.


To which I laughed because, come on, have you ever seen me try to do a cartwheel?!?

But then she clarified that she was asking if we were going to have the boys circumcised...

...and I was completely dumfounded. Not only because I had never thought about it, but also because I realized that I didn't actually know if most of the men in the US were circumcised or not. Because I've really only seen one *type* of wiener, and I didn't know if it was the kosher type or the non-kosher type, if you get what I'm throwing at you. I mean, am I the only one who doesn't know this stuff? And if I am, WTF, man?!? How can a relatively intelligent, worldly, college-educated 29-year-old woman not know the difference between a circumcised and non-circumcised schlong? I blame the public school system. Mostly because everybody blames the public school system, and I'm always ready to jump on to the nearest bandwagon.

So I looked at Brian, panic stricken. And he looked at the nurse and said yes. and I was all, "well, that answers that question."Everybody says that parenting teaches you all sorts of things. So far, I've learned that Brian isn't exactly clear on the concept of prosthetic limbs.
And that he's circumcised.

It was an enlightening day.

(Brian: if you're reading this...sorry. This is kind of like an episode of When Keepin' It Real Goes Wrong from the Chapelle show. Feel free to smash me over the head with that IV stand.)