I went before a judge, crapped in his arms, saw five different grandparents, had some surgery on my tinkle nozzle, got addicted to children’s Tylenol, recognized the problem, went to rehab (in my mind), kicked the addiction (winning), went through some withdrawal, then gained a few pounds on the road to recovery. All the while, I’m teething like a bull shark and trying to learn how to crawl – which I believe to be my ticket to freedom. So far, I haven’t been able to do much more than undulate in place on all fours before flopping onto my belly. So I’m pretty close.

If you’re wondering what kind of procedure I had done on my mystery bits, Father has been telling everyone it was a length reduction.