Not Your Father's Circumcision
So the mommy blogosphere has been abuzz lately with the circumcision debate. To cut or not to cut, that is the question. It went from Dooce to Momversation to (my favorite) Finslippy to Her Bad Mother and let me tell you, it's fucking exhausting. The moral chest pounding is deafening. I was half expecting The Bloggess to weigh in with foreskin fashions or something.
It's either a really bad idea to get a circumcision or a fantastic one, depending on many factors that you can discuss ad nauseam, but that basically narrow down to "I'm right and you're a moron and possibly a child abuser." I'm paraphrasing, of course.
Fortunately, I can offer some guidance on the issue:
I didn't circumcise my son, but I threaten to, when necessary.
"What's that? You don't want to take out the garbage? Let me just dial Bris-on-the-Run!"
And now to lighten the mood, I will share the song that my son has been singing non-fucking stop all week, in the hopes that you will sing it all week and I will thereby be released from its grasp:
Flush you down the toilet, See if you enjoy it!