His left hand knew not what his right hand was doing

A thousand thanks to everyone who weighed in on the “to snip or not to snip” debate. Rob and I still haven’t made a decision yet; however, I’m inclined to believe that our reluctance to put an end to our indecision is a kind of decision in itself.

That being said, Milo almost took matters into his own hands last night – literally. I had him on the change table just before his bath time, and he was gooing, kicking, and flailing like he always does (the change table is still pretty much his favourite place to be… oh, how that boy loves to have a bare butt. He’s like his father that way). I was tickling his cheeks and making faces at him, when all of a sudden his eyes bulged out of their sockets, his face turned purple, and he let out a piercing shriek the likes of which should never be heard beyond the confines of Hell.

I gasped, wondering how my smiling boy could turn so quickly into a screaming demon, then let out a shriek myself when I saw the reason for his sudden transformation. The poor guy had one of his tiny fists clenched around his penis and testicles and was squeezing them with all his might – and that kid has a pretty good grip on him, let me tell you. Hence the screaming, the horrible, horrible screaming.

And, since tiny infants have no real understanding that their hands are actually part of them, Milo had no idea that he was actually the one inflicting the pain on himself. The more it hurt, the tighter he clenched his fist, and the louder he screamed. I thought the poor kid’s eyes were going to shoot out of his head and go splat against the ceiling. I had to pry his fingers away one by one – going back to re-pry the ones that he had clenched back into a fist – before he finally was able to let himself go.

Then the tears began, the inconsolable tears he shed for having discovered that this strange new reality in which he found himself could involve such terrible suffering. His shocked eyes stared up at me through the tears as if to say, “Why didn’t you WARN me?”

Sorry, kiddo. There are just some things you’ve got to learn on your own.

Fortunately, Milo’s memory is about as developed as his fine motor skills, and by the time he’d finished his bath, he’d completely forgotten about the injury he’d inflicted upon himself. Thank goodness. What a nasty way to learn the inevitable lesson that you’re your own worst enemy.

So, yeah. Having witnessed that, I’m even LESS inclined to put the poor boy’s penis on the chopping block. Unless Rob gets pushed off the fence or experiences a sudden steeling of the will, it looks like Milo will remain as nature intended him: unedited, in his original default mode.

Hmm. Come to think of it, maybe Milo wasn’t being as his own worst enemy, but was actually acting in his own self defence, suffering a smaller evil so that a bigger one might be avoided… I wouldn’t put it past him, the little monkey.

R. Milo Emmerson – accidental self-mutilator or seriously wily dude?