Pre-Trial Trying- May 2005

I haven’t told Bal that I’m ready to start trying. That I am, in fact, ready to have a baby. I don’t think I have to tell him. From that look on his face today, I am certain he senses that a lot of sex is coming his way.

“Hey Kari,” he excitedly calls out. “You know what?”

He so knows what I’m thinking. I am certain.

“What?” I question while anticipating the seduction in his next words.

“I found a mountain bike in the Buy-and-Sell today! I’m going to go check it out and hopefully buy a bike today!”

“Oh,” I falter, “are you sure you don’t want the sex instead?” But I don’t really say it. I only think it and before I know it, he is out the door to go mountain bike shopping.

An hour later he calls and has bought the bike. A $1500 bike. He sounds orgasmic. And so he’d better be for $1500. So I am happy for him.

Until he gets home from his first Northshore bike ride.

I had figured that a day out in the fresh air and getting some exercise would be good for his libido. Instead, he comes home looking like an 80 year old man.

Entering the door, I first notice his dumb smile of supreme satisfaction. As he hobbles down the hall somehow simultaneously grabbing on to both his sac and knees, I notice the blood crawling down his arm. Before I can even pretend to be interested in his ride, I look down at my drooling, snoozing lump of love passed out on the couch.

Eventually he wakes up. He moans and groans about how soar he is but perks up upon filling me in on the details of his bike.

As Bal talks, Bal hears “I love my bike! It’s a black Giant dualy and rode awesome. We rode Corkscrew today and it was wild! There were 4 foot drops and rollers and skinnies. What a rush!”

As Bal talks, Kari hears “I love my new bike more than you! It has crushed my penis and testes into nothingness but I don’t care because it was awesome. I found a better hobby than screwing and it was more adventurous than anything we have ever done! I dropped my balls 4 feet onto the bumpy skinny bike seat and while I screamed at first, I’m now numb as all the blood in the region rushed to my psychotic brain instead!”

For the rest of the week Bal continues to ride and then limp.

As he’s walking out the door, bike in hand, I say goodbye.

“See you later hop-a-long. Have fun on the Faulty Testicles!”

I am certain, as the door closes behind him, I hear him mumble “Oh cool, I didn’t know that was the trail name….”


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