The Most Disgusting Creature in the World!

I like to consider myself relatively informed, whether it be about current events, upcoming movies, or methods for getting out of housework that my wife has demanded, um nope, sweetly asked me to complete. I’ve tried many strange foods, and am open to trying many more. There are, however, certain things that I was just plain not prepared to experience, see, or learn about.

The day before Tevye was born we had been told by the ultrasound technician that he weighed approximately eight pounds. Imagine our surprise when, after much groaning, screaming, and facial-contorting(and that was just me), it was announced that he actually weighed 9lbs, 9oz! While there was significantly more mass than I was expecting for such a new baby, holding him was one of the happiest moments of my life. He didn’t cry or complain the entire time that he was being checked out by the doctor, and we were all completely thrilled…until…

While I held my newborn son, Nicole was informed that the placenta needed to come out. Oh sure, I’d heard/read about placentas. Not having seen one, I had my preconceived notions of what one might look like. I’ve certainly never been squeamish when it comes to anything medical(my Mum and I used to watch surgery on TV while we ate our supper), but this was different. Since, while I wasn’t bothered by the concept, I didn’t really have any interest in seeing the placenta, I was concentrating on my beautiful wife and child, and thinking just how wonderful everything was at that very moment. The doctor, nice as he may be, decided that we should see the placenta, held aloft like he was hoisting the Stanley Cup!

Ugh! Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t read about some different cultural practices regarding placentas. Some people bury them, and others, well, eat them. Perhaps it was more shock at the size of the thing! You could wear it as a hat, if you felt so inclined(there’s an image for you!) Here’s another idea.

You could use it to paint a picture, similar to, if you’ve ever had the opportunity, making salmon prints. Now, I’m not sure if this is only a Goldstream River(just outside of Victoria, BC) thing, but for those of you unfamiliar with this most essential of practices to Victorian culture, basically what you do is this: First, you’ll want to procure a large dead salmon, preferably one that swam up the river to spawn, did it’s thing, and then died. Once you have your salmon, cover it with paint, and then press it on a large piece of paper. Voila, le Print du Salmon!

Now apply all those same principles to a placenta. Perhaps some of you are thinking that this sounds like a good idea, and hey, if that’s your thing, then knock your socks off. As a man, though, this isn’t my idea of a good time. I would imagine most people think that I’m crazy for even suggesting such a thing. Here’s the best part about my whole Placenta-painting afternoon, I’m not making this up!  Why not head on over to “How to make a Placenta Print”, and get detailed instructions for yourself! A word of warning, though, and I can’t stress this enough, don’t take a sip of your coffee immediately prior to clicking that link. Oh, it’s a real thing. People do this!

Ha, and after seeing the picture of Tevye, you probably thought I was going to talk about poop, didn’t you?! Doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?

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