Any dad that’s worn a baby carrier knows that there’s a sweet, bundle of joy in front of you that you’ve got to protect. And that is, of course, your testicles.
Look, you’re a good dad and you’ve got a handle on that fatherhood thing. But getting kicked in the junk is not fun. That’s why the Kiccup exists – it’s a shield that hangs below your baby carrier and protects you from wild baby-kicks.
Every warrior needs armor, and gentlemen, if you’re not protecting your meatballs, then what in the world are we doing here? Amirite or amirite?
Word on the street is that a dad in Zimbabwe got his dong bitten off by his son during an argument. The story goes a little something like this:
In mid-December of 2012, in Glenview, Zimbabwe, a 26 year old Admire Gomo came home late and stripped nude for a good night’s sleep. His mother started arguing with him about his habit of coming home late, which Admire was having none of.
I love being a father. There are so many life-changing things that go along with fatherhood – and so many incredible comforts that come from having that little beast in my life. But you also know that being a father means life changes and discomforts too – fatherhood would be too perfect if it were all about being proud and comfortable all the time.
There are a lot of awkward uncertainties I face in fatherhood: How do I provide for my family? How do I teach my son all of the right lessons in life? How do I protect my son from danger?
And how, I’ve got to ask, am I supposed to snuggle with my kid when I wake up with morning wood?
(picture by Alan Sailer sans caption) Cole Gamble at The Good Men Project put up a story about how having a son has opened his mind about all things penis. I thought I’d weigh in on the idea, as I had been ruminating on the same topic lately. Gamble talks about how to a baby, their junk is a magical toy that never gets boring. To the onlooking parent, you think “god, that’s got to hurt.” As my son prepares to turn two years old, I’ve come to realize that his whole life has more or less been all about his junk. His pickle, his onions…the whole little sack of veggies. And occasionally (read: daily), it’s about my junk too, since he spends a lot of our playtime crushing my salad bar.
This isn’t going to get much prettier, so if you’re not into nut jokes, your ride ends here. On the bright side, if you love crotch humor – continue!