A Doctor Dad MUST Have Big Balls

If you follow Your Doctor's Wife on Twitter, you already know last night I died laughing...

Excuse the typos. It was incredibly late at night. Never type with only one eye open and (at my age) no reading glasses.

If you missed it, I urge you to read Josh Levs' article, Study: Smaller testicles, more-involved dads? Take your time. You've got to read the whole thing. It's worth it. I promise.

Oh, my friends! Can you see it? Can you picture it? They PAID academics to measure BALLS. 

What can I say, except the truth. I fell asleep last night with visions of hanging scrota and testes with little tape measures neatly tied around them. They were most likely photographed, too. 

Sir, do you have a head shot?
No, but how about a scrotum shot?

The bed shook from time to time as I tried to contain my laughter within myself.

Eventually, I feel asleep and, when my nightly bout of insomnia awoke me, I found I still had balls on the the brain. And math, too. Combined, this equation came to mind:

Study: Smaller testicles, more-involved dads?  PLUS

The Loneliness of Being a Doctor's Wife PLUS

 It's a Rough Road: The Children of Surgeons

EQUALS...

My husband's gotta have balls the size of the fricken' moon, my friends!

I feel the urge to measure... in the name of science, of course.

I'm fairly certain he won't agree (read- trust me) to have anything tied around his scrotum, so I'll measure volume. A simple squat over the scale should do. I'll also break out the yardstick... just in case.