My husband is well endowed

My husband is well endowed.

I know that’s not anyone’s business but it is a piece of information you need to know before you continue reading because unless you’re me or maybe my husband’s high school hockey player friend or even his mom, you wouldn’t know this.

My husband, Scott, is well endowed.

Stop squirming. I have a point.

Remember the Oregon Trail computer game where we learned how to ford river, caulk a wagon, and then we died of dysentery before reaching Oregon? Your success was largely due to which profession you gave yourself. Banker? You start with extra cash to purchase supplies. Doctor? You’re more likely to survive accidents or illness. Hunter? Your family will never starve.

In many ways, the Oregon Trail is like modern life. Doctor? Your kids will never see the inside of a hospital unless they’re literally dying. Hunter? You’ll never have to shop the meat department at the grocery store. Banker? You’re probably a good saver.

Writer? Oh, this shit is funny as hell and gather, gather around.

I am a writer. One of the things I love about Scott is he allows me to write about our family. I don’t normally ask Scott permission to write about him but this time I did. He said it was fine but his mom and grandma couldn’t read it.

So if you’re Scott’s mom or grandma, please stop reading. Everyone else – you’re good. Gather around. It’s story time.

My writing niche is humor. I never meant to become a humor writer; the words just happen to come out that way. But a few times – oh, a few times – life hands me a bulging, ripe piece of fruit and it goes straight to the Internet.

For months, Scott complained of a “pulling and achey” sensation in his lower abdomen. The degree of discomfort varied on the day but it was constantly present. He made an appointment with his internal medicine doctor.

Scott wasn’t seen by his doctor on the initial appointment because Scott’s doctor was on vacation.

I’ll tell who wasn’t on vacation – his doctor’s smokin’ hot nurse practitioner. A true ten. A knockout. A beautiful angel saving others in the name of medicine, even if her contribution means asking Scott to drop his pants, turn his head, and cough.

To stand in front of a medical professional with your pants down and legs spread apart is probably uncomfortable. I’ve never stood in this position but I’m guessing it’s similar to the “slide your butt all the way to the edge of the table” speech women hear every year. You have to remind yourself that medical professionals see this every day. You’re one of a million penises, testicles, vaginas and buttholes they’ve seen in their life.

When a patient comes in complaining of a pulling or achey sensation in the groin, the first thing a doctor – sorry – a smokin’ hot nurse practitioner will do is check for a hernia. Based off my WebMD search, I diagnosed Scott with a hernia when he walked in the house.

Me: You never texted me back! What did the hot nurse say? It’s a hernia, isn’t it.

Scott: No, no hernia. They did an ultrasound too. I’m still waiting on the radiologist to call me back but the tech said he didn’t see anything.

Me: Well, that’s good. I wonder what it is?

Scott: The nurse said it sounds like a lower abdominal muscle tear. I still need to drop off my urine but she’s guessing it’ll be fine.

Me: Hm, so maybe stop working out so much? What’s wrong with you? Why are you so quiet?

Scott:

Me: Hello?

Scott: LIKE A BUTTON ON A FUR COAT.

Me: What?

Scott: It shrunk. He shrunk up like a frightened turtle.

I laughed.

Me: Ummmm. What?

Scott yanked his jeans open and dropped his underwear and jeans to his feet. There he stood with his penis whipped out in our kitchen.

Scott: LIKE THIS.

Scott folded his penis like an accordion so the tip was showing.

Me: No! It’s never shrunk that small, Scott. I’ve never seen it like that. You’re probably overreacting. Just the tip? It’s too long to go back that far inside your body.

Scott: Just the tip. I looked down and there he was, all scared with stage fright. I’ve never seen him like that before.

Me: But you said the nurse was hot?

Scott: HELL YES, SHE WAS HOT! SMOKIN’ HOT.

Me: Hotter than me?

Scott: Of course not, baby. It doesn’t really matter because I couldn’t even get a chub. I would’ve been happy with it halfway normal. Like this. Or maybe this. She asked if I’ve been with any partners other than you and I’m like, “well, obviously not. Apparently I need my wife in the room for him to come out of his shell.”

Me: SCOTT! NO, YOU DIDN’T.

Scott laughed.

Me: Maybe she didn’t look. Did she laugh?

Scott: No, she had two fingers digging in my groin and told me to cough.

Me: I’m sure she’s seen all kinds of penises. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Look at women’s vaginas after giving birth. We have to —

Scott: LIKE A BUTTON ON A FUR COAT.

My husband is well endowed.

This post originally appeared on JulieBurton.blog