this is pretty funny so keep on reading to the
end.
This is good...
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone
through the pet syndrome
including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish,
the story below will have
you laughing out LOUD!
Here's what happened:
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to
tell
me there was "something
wrong" with one of the two hamsters he holds
prisoner in his room.
"He's just lying there looking sick," he told
me."I'm serious, Dad. Can
you help?"
I put my best hamster-healer expression on my
face
and followed him into
his bedroom.
One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his
back, looking stressed.
I immediately knew what to do.
"Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
"Oh my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute.
"She's having babies."
"What?" my son demanded."But their names are Bert
and Ernie, Mom!"
I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be?
I
thought we said we
didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in
their cage?" she
inquired. (I actually think she said this
sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I
reminded her, (in my most
loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth
together).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some
guys,
you know," she
informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see
what was going on. I
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience,
I
announced. "We're
about to witness the miracle of birth." "OH,
Gross!"
they shrieked.
"Well, isn't THAT just Great! What are we going
to
do with a litter of
tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to
know.
(I really do think she
was being snotty here, too, don't you?)
We peered at the patient. After much struggling,
what looked like a tiny
foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant
second
later. "We don't
appear to be making much progress," I noted.
"Its breech," my wife whispered, horrified. "Do
something, Dad!" my son
urged. "Okay, okay."
Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot
when
it next appeared,
giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I
tried
several more times with
the same results. "Should I call 911?" my eldest
daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma."
(You
see a pattern here
with the females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly.
We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage
in
his lap. Breathe,
Ernie, breathe," he urged.
"I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother
noted to him. (Women can
be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she
does to me is one thing,
but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and
peered at the little
animal through a magnifying glass. "What do you
think, Doc, a c-section?"
suggested scientifically. "Oh, very interesting,"
he
murmured.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you
privately
for a moment?" I
gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked. "Oh,
perfectly," the vet
assured us. "This hamster is not in labor.
In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie
is
a boy. You see, Ernie
is a young male. And occasionally, as they come
into maturity, like most
male species, they um....um....masturbate. Just
the
way he did, lying on
his back."
He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know
what I'm saying, Mr.
Cameron."
We were silent, absorbing this. "So Ernie's
just...just...Excited," my
wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we
understood. More silence.
Then my vicious, cruel wife started to giggle.
And
giggle. And then even
laugh loudly.
"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not
believing that
the woman I married would commit the upcoming
affront to my FLAWLESS
manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. "It's
just...that...I'm picturing
you pulling on its... its...teeny little..." she
gasped for more air to
bellow in laughter once more. "That's enough," I
warned.
We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled
the hamsters and our son
back into the car. He was glad everything was
going
to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've
done, Dad," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed,
collapsing
with laughter.
2 Hamsters. $10
1 Cage ..... $20
1 Trip to the Vet .... $30
Memory of your husband pulling on a hamster's
w***y.
Priceless.
:O Oh boy that made me lol, in fact I'm still laughing :D :D
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