P IS FOR PISSING and PROCRASTINATION

KYVIV PEEING STATUES 

from Wikimedia commons

from Piecers of my Mind/My Body in parts

MY PENIS take 2

for Andy Suknaski, my first encounter with a writer-in-residence at the University of Manitoba. 

I went to pee outside, in a trough leading to a hole in the wood portion of our fenced pasture, happy to pee standing up. We didn’t have indoor plumbing yet anyway.  I hear Andy Suknaski insist men piss, they  don’t pee, especially not in a barn. Andy, I was five years old. Still, he says. Ok.  Andy I went to the fence to piss like a man, happy to stand.  I realised, a second too late, that I didn’t tuck well enough, after I shook less than three times. In the twinkling of an eye

I caught my foreskin in the zipper, having exuberantly pulled to close. I screamed, and not knowing what to do, ran inside and found my mum
(Andy: ” You did what?!!!) I found my mum who assessed the situation, pinched the offending foreskin, then gave the zipper a quick and hard yank down. Relief was immediate, my sobs subsided. Mum tried hard not to laugh, turned her back, found a cookie, took a breath and handed it to me. “I’m sure you’ll be more careful next time.” Oh, yeah!

There was a time this summer fortunately photo and video free;  of a confrontation in the Kelowna General Hospital. That’s tomorrow, with the epilogue on Friday. Stay Tuned.

 

This entry was posted in Abject Alphabet (Fits and starts), ARCHIVES, Blog, Health, My Life in Pieces, Uncategorized, What Men Do Blogish. Bookmark the permalink. Trackbacks are closed, but you can post a comment.

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