Sweatpants and secrets....

Why do people tell me these things?

The past week has included 3 separate discussions with three separate people about the state of their own (or their husbands)...ummmm....private bits. Yes, really. It's rather difficult to keep a straight face, but now you too can read about them. Please swallow now, and leave liquids in their cups until you've finished....

Saturday night, we had a couple over for dinner for the first time. They are very nice people and we are considering investing in a restaurant together. We discovered how many friends we have in common, even back to our childhoods. My husband made a new recipe, which was outstanding....http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2006/04/20/WIG73I9DS61.DTL&type=food. We discussed business ideas and a general timeline. The evening was a smashing success, and no wine was involved. So, why did the husband insist on regaling us with his first paintball experience?

Yes "Lefty", as I'll call him from this day forward, played paintball for the first time wearing commando sweatpants. Yup, he got shot in the groin area. Wanna guess where? Amazing after a wonderful relaxing meal with new friends that THIS is the memory I take away, eh?

Then, on Tuesday, was at the grocery store. I ran into a work buddy of my husbands in line. He had, like, 10 bags of frozen peas. I noticed them, but I DID NOT ASK. Yet, mere moments later, he explained that he had a vasectomy done two days prior, and still had some swelling. Um....Do I really need to know this? I murmured a few kind words, and almost....almost offered to share my own limited post operative experiences with my husband, but I didn't. I know the cashier almost said something, but we shared a wink and managed not to burst out laughing. I completely lost it when I told DH about it later though. HE was sympathetic. Something about solidarity among men or something....

Thursday? Well, I was helping a good friend. Included in that, I picked up her son and took him to baseball practice with my kids. But first....I had to hear another groin tale. Once again, I did nothing to earn the right to such information....I knew my friend was going to the airport to pick up her Mother. I just asked where her husband was that night, thinking business trip, or company dinner, or whatever....turns out that he was "indisposed" too....

They went on a family trip last week, and returned Sunday night. Her hubby grabbed a pair of sweatpants (it's always sweatpants, isn't it?) from the closet floor when they got home. On Monday, things were a bit tender in the nether regions. By Tuesday, he was swearing that the redness and swelling were not the results of an STD given to him by God-knows-who and he accepted his fate and went to the Doctor. On Wednesday the doc proclaimed he had a nasty case of poison oak, which must have come from the sweatpants that were never washed at the end of duck hunting season. Being a man, he's been on pain pills for the last three days.

While I smiled and made "poor man" sounds while the story was being told, imagine my delight, when at 8pm, he showed up at my door to pick up his son. I did glance down, but I don't think he caught me doing it...I can't have him thinking I'm a pervert, can I? I started to tell DH the story after he left, but he was just amazed that I had so many conversations about other mens genitals, that we both fell into fits of laughter.