On Removing a Tick From Your 4-Year-Old’s Pecker

So there I was, staring at my four-year-old son’s *pecker.

I had just crashed into the bathroom after hearing my Missus’ blood-curdling scream: “WHAT IS THAT?”

We were at Mom’s trailer house outside Eufaula, OK, so I had fully expected to find a spider or possum or, God forbid, a snake that needed killing.

But what I found was Junior, standing there in his birthday suit, proud as could be, as he and his terrified Mom stared at his pecker.

The Missus had just dried Junior after his bath, and she spotted a black dot on his pecker that was moving around.

While this panicked his Mom, it totally fascinated my son.

At the age of four, there is nothing in the world that compares to the joy a boy child gets from his pecker.

OK, I know that does not change much for about the next 70 years.

But four is a special time in a boy’s life, when he begins to form a life-long relationship with his pecker.

And now, Junior is standing there so cute, naked as a jaybird, gazing over his little tummy at his pecker. And he has quite an audience.

His Mom is next to him.  Her face is frozen in panic.

In fact, she is not breathing.

For probably the first time in her adult life, this woman of immense talent and control, does not know what to do.

Hence her primal scream.

Now, Rule No. 1 of being a Dad is — You Size Up the Situation and Take Appropriate Action.

I saw there was a tick on my son’s pecker, so I fainted.

Not true.

I innately knew that I had to appear calm and in control, so that Junior did not end up with some terrible Oedipal complex.

I wanted to scream: “There is a tick on my son’s pecker and I don’t know what to do!”

But I took a deeeeep breath, and advised, “It’s OK son.  It’s just fine.”

I then performed CPR on the Missus, because she had not breathed for a long while and her lips were turning blue.

After I got her breathing again, I dipped a Q-tip into soapy water.

Then gently — EVER SO GENTLY — because my son’s future family life and my grandchildren were hanging in the balance — I touched the tick.

And, being a tick, he did not like that.

So his body started to sort of run around in circles, while his head was still embedded in my son’s pecker.

(Excuse me as I takes another deeeep breath before continuing with this story because, even after a quarter-century, it about gives me a heart attack.)

I quickly updated the battle plan.

Plan A — the Q-tip — had not worked, so I moved to plan B — tweezers.

Now, if you grow up in Oklahoma, you know that a tick has three tiny thingees on its head.

If you yank the tick out while its head is buried in flesh, one of the thingees can remain and cause an infection.

So, even though I was not sure what to do, I knew for certain their would be NO YANKING on the tick embedded in my son’s pecker.

I tapped the tick’s bottom with the tweezers, and its body just ran around in circles, head still embedded.

If this tick had been on my leg, I would have lit a cigarette and carefully moved the lit end toward the tick until he backed out.

Even if this had killed the tick on my leg, I could have made a tiny incision and removed the dead tick’s head, no problem.

But this tick was embedded in Junior’s Johnson.

And the words “tiny incision” and “Junior’s Johnson” should never, ever be part of anybody’s plan.

So I went to Plan C — which involved drinking heavily and letting my mother take over since, by then, she had joined us in the tiny bathroom.

OK, not true.

I grabbed a new Q-tip, soaked it in alcohol, then dabbed the tick. And that did the trick.

The tick made a run for it, and I crushed him with the tweezers.

His Mom, who was by now breathing normally, gently dabbed antiseptic cream on the affected area, and then tucked Junior in bed.

I think he was disappointed that his pecker was no longer the center of attention, because in his young life, this had been a Red Letter Day.

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(*I have been asked by one of the parties intimately involved to stress that the pecker at the center of this story made a full and complete recovery.) 

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6 Responses to “On Removing a Tick From Your 4-Year-Old’s Pecker”

  1. Wesley Jordan says:

    Funniest story ever! I had to wipe away tears to finish reading it!!

  2. Junior says:

    I do have memories of this, though i don’t think i would have know about alcohol or how important my pecker was

  3. Lillian L. says:

    Ohmygod! Tears are running down my cheeks from laughing.

    Anyone who does not really KNOW you, the wife and son will not believe this is exactly how the whole thing actually, really, and truely happened…but big sis does.

    You are such a brave, calm, and heroic Dad. However, Junior is going to kill you.

    • hams says:

      Funny now, but, man, at the time!!! And I got Junior’s approval before committing his personal region to “literature”.

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