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!
Overview: I had to take my son's hamster to the vet. 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 statement 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, ya know," she
informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, ya 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.
"It's 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?" I 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."
"What!?"
"You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come
into maturity, like most male species, they um.... er....
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 viscous, 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 bucks
1 - Cage - 20 bucks
Trip to the Vet - 30 bucks
Pictures of your hubby pulling on the hamster's wacker........
Priceless!
Priceless
Re: Priceless
what the f**k kind of rely is that......
Re: Priceless
Ray's only kind of reply, a gay one.
Re: Priceless
rays only mad his girl wont tug on his little weenie hamster dick.