Me and My Vasectomy

So, there I was, got the deed done. I went back a week later to get a checkup.

I ask the doc the big question.
Me: “ I ride a unicycle, when can I start riding again.”

Doc: “Well, wait another week and then work into it.”

Okay, I thought. That sounds doable.

One week later.

I am outside, I spy my trials uni just sittin there in the garage, waiting, calling to me. I stride on over and decide, I am ready, though the twins are a bit tender.

Ehhh, I think, that shouldn’t be a problem.

I mount up, try settling into the seat – a seat with miyata foam inside. I do that subtle adjustment, we men all know and do. I lean forward to move out and then I find I can’t sit in the seat normally. I have to lean back. Hey this ain’t riding. It’s pain.

I get off after riding a few meters. This sucs. How much longer to I have to wait?

I manage to try again a few times, but the twins are just screamin at me to stop. I ride a curb about 45 feet and decide it used to be fun before I got the hatchet job.

I am lonely, the uni’s lonely. It lies there wondering if it will become a dustbunny castle in the garage.

Suddenly, it hits me. I feel the glee from my unicycle.

Yep – seat out! Ohhhh yeah, the neighborhood hears, “ A Mighty HI HO Silver”.

That’s it!

Who needs the dang seat anyway.?

I decide to try to do seat out onto a wooden box that’s 13” high. Seat in, it’s no problem, yeah but…

I haven’t done anything higher than 10” seat out and that was over a year ago.

I look at the box, it looks at me. I look at the unicycle. Am I ready to go for it?

I wuss out. Previous attempts at just hopping in air have divorced me of my energy. I am tired. My wife was sick all night and my nads are quakin.

I elect to just jump up on it without the unicycle. That sort-of counts.

I wimper and walk away. My head is down. An expletive is muttered…

Ehhh, I will save it for next time – probably next weekend when the brothers are feeling better and I …

Stay tuned.