Monday, February 9, 2009


Thanksgiving rolls around. And by this time, except for my son who’d only the day before arrived home from Minneapolis, and my daughter who tends toward internalization anyway and who’d been having a tough enough year of her own, we’d each had a chance to adjust to the news I’d received.

We knew telling the children would be a more delicate matter.

So my wife says, Hey! Let’s play pin the prostate on the turkey – as a lesson in anatomy geared for grade-schoolers, I suppose. Except the kids are already into their early twenties and we worry they’ll catch on right away that we’re stonewalling, maybe holding something back.

Do we know it’s a tom?

Doesn’t matter, it seems. The point is to use it as an icebreaker, as a three-dimensional visual aid. Kind of a let’s begin by acquainting ourselves with the proximity of the prostate and its associated piping and perplexities sort of perspective. Then we can relax. We can get on with the Thanksgiving holiday, everyone filling their bellies with livers and gizzards and feeling much better about themselves.

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