When my third child came along it was decided I would go to Dr. Choppemoff's clinic for a scalpel-less vasectomy. Thus began an ordeal I call the Enlarged Scrotum Syndrome.

As I imagined it would be, the whole process was demeaning. When I first met the dick doc, he rolled his chair over to me, and without looking up said, "Drop your pants."

While he examined my goods I summoned the courage to look down. Yikes, something was missing. No not missing, my goalie decided to play Mr. Turtle and hide himself away.

I tried to relax, and was determined to make this doctor laugh. So I said, "I bet you do this to all the boys?" This guy was as cold as his hands, and didn't even smile.

The next appointment was the actual surgery itself, performed in a room in the doctor's office. Beforehand, I was to shave the scrotum and apply topical Novocain to freeze the skin. The doctor would freeze it further with a needle, make a 1/4 inch puncture, pull the vas deferens out, snip, cauterize, and done. It should take 15 minutes.

As I lay on the table wearing just my shirt and socks, he draped a green blanket with a two-inch square hole over my groin. Although nervous, I was resolute to at least make this guy smile. When he came toward me with a hypodermic needle I put up one hand and said, "Uh doctor? You might feel a slight prick." Nothing -- not even a smirk -- what a stiff.

The surgery took about 25 minutes. Afterward, Dr. Choppemoff reluctantly admitted he encountered a little difficulty, but assured me that the smoke from my groin was a normal part of cauterizing. He told me to put on my pants, and help myself to a cookie and some juice. (While, I