So today on the walk back to my car after work, I found my mind wandering to the subject of self-sterilization. With two healthy beautiful boys, I feel like my reproductive efforts on the planet are done, and I can check out of the gene pool safely knowing my wacky code has been morphed and replicated in some fashion into the future. And yet, I am not quite ready to enter under the knife for elective surgery to get my testicles split open and modified. Yes, I know it’s a safe procedure. Yes, I know I don’t want any more kids, and yet I have a ways to go before I call up the doctor and set up the appointment. There are philosophical questions about reducing your choices (yes, yes, I know it’s reversible. But shit, like I want to get my nuts cut TWICE in one lifetime?!). Mainly, I just hate surgery and wouldn’t generally choose to elect for any sort. And yet, I know that it’s unfair to ask Julie to continue to pump hormones into her body with a question of what the long term affects would be, just so that we don’t have to use condoms. And hell if we want to use condoms for the rest of our fertility lives — that just ain’t gonna happen. So, in the long run, it’s the most sensible thing to do. So, I guess I’m taking mental forays into the subject, getting myself emotional acquainted with the concept. Anyone out there get a vasectomy yet? Bueller? Bueller? Maybe I’ll be a trend setter. Hope they don’t miss and really screw me up. I’ll be starring in Hedwig II.