Circumcision

It’s a strange thing, you have parents who won’t allow a piercing or a tattoo, but will happily circumcise their child without question.

I was lucky, I had escaped it, but only just.

My Mother had two very difficult births, The first one Eighteen years before me, My Sister. And I appeared in the mid 60s when Mum was in her 40s and thought her child bearing days were over.

In those days they used Ether on patients in hospitals, and it was apparently pretty terrible stuff… it smelt awful, it almost put the surgical staff to sleep too and waking up later took a long time and the room would spin.

The smell would also waft out of surgery and along the ward, making patients feel dreadful.

Forceps were used to pull me out, probably because I’d heard something about how awful the World was. Poor Mum was on Ether.

I emerged and Mum woke to a spinning room and thought she heard a nurse tell her that she had a boy.

Later, when She was more “with it” her Doctor walked in and said “You’ve got a Boy, And He’s a dear little chap”… She made a sound like “urghhh” Because the one thing she didn’t fancy, was a boy.

Mum told me this on each and every Birthday, so I know it by heart.

I was placed in a humidi-crib which were a fairly recent invention at the time (An Australian Invention too), I don’t think I was an early baby, I think I was put there because of the trauma Mum and I had just been through.

Dad and My Sister, Janice… Were the first to see me, and apparently I was still covered in yuck which had to be cleaned off.

When Mum had regained her colour and was ready to go home, Dad popped the question.

“Has He been… you know…. done?”

Mum thought about it for a moment, and that’s all it took, All she wanted was to be home… She told Dad a fib.

“Yes”

There’s more to the story, but be aware that my Father took an active role in washing me, and also my Sisters kids… which were born not that many years after me, so everyone thought they were simply my younger Brother and Sister.

Now go forward about eighteen years.

Something about circumcision came up, and the word got out that I hadn’t been, you know… done.

Dads jaw dropped, and He asked me “Haven’t you?… You dirty thing” (Yes, myth number one, that the foreskin is somehow dirty… probably originated in the days when men took a monthly bath, or even a yearly one… but these days when it’s easy to shower twice a day, well… )

I’m really not sure if he was joking or not, you could never quite tell with Dad.

Anyway, that was a long story… and I only wanted to say something fairly short.

People talk about cutting the foreskin off or leaving it on, but they rarely ever say what the foreskin IS, except to assume that it’s just a bit of rubbish skin which nobody needs.

Women (who ought to know better, as they populate magazines with how holy their own bodies are) and Men who are cut and have no idea, don’t really know what a foreskin is, or what it’s like to have one.

And it’s dead simple, because you have two bits of skin with you right now which is exactly the same.

Your eye lids.

Go on, give them a feel, sensitive little buggers aren’t they?

See how they’re different underneath, same as the foreskin, except of course the foreskin doesn’t have lashes… how odd would that be?

Imagine not having them, that’d be nasty, right?

Think about it.

Wolfie!