Mr Oates is is big fat wuss!
Having had 3 kids on the National Health I know what it is to feel more pain that I ever though possible and loose all dignity. This is why I have little sympathy with the debacle detailed below.

Now read on.......

After having had 3 kids we found out what was causing them, and as a vasectomy is a far simpler procedure than female sterilisation I voted for Mr Oates to be 'seen to by the vet'. As Mr Oates didn't fancy having no sex forever he eventually gave in and agreed to be snipped.

Off he trundles to the local hospital to have the dirty deed done. Did I mention that Mr Oates is a big fat wuss who is scared of *deep intake of breath* everything medical that might, possibley, maybe hurt even a little bit.

When he'd not come home after a couple of hours I was beginning to wonder where he was. Then my Dad appeared on my doorstep looking like death and telling me to sit down as he had something to tell from the hospital

............... 'Holy Cow' I thought 'the dozey bastards died of a vasectomy!!'

I couldn't be that lucky. My Dad's strange expression was because he was trying not to piss himself laughing. Apparently every time the surgeon came towards him with the scalpel Mr Oates fainted dead away. They had to bring him round three times in the end.

Mr Oates had put my Dad down as next of kin in case of emergencies (I was at home with small children and he'd taken the car with him) and the hospital rang Dad to collect said wussy husband.

In the end they sedated Mr Oates to get the op done, but because he'd never taken anything stronger than junior asprin he was smashed out of his tree when he came home.

The sight of him staggering down the drive like John Wayne after a bottle of Jack Daniels will warm my heart forever :-)
(Dozey Oates is off to Merkinland soon (:, Tue 18 Jul 2006, 17:03, Reply)