When you first get married you think you’re good in the sack. You both do.

After 10 or 15 years, you actually get good.

After 24 years of “action,” you already know how to be good in bed and you start thinking more creatively. Like: “How can I totally crack up my wife the next time we get busy?”

Since I will do just about anything to crack up my redhead at this point, the other day I had a brainstorm. I decided to do a little “creative” manscaping to my man junk. Using a pair of scissors and a razor I created a nice little landscape.

Later that night, when we were just getting to the “heavy petting” portion of our program, she began to remove my boxers. At first, she didn’t notice. She is a professional, after all. Well, I don’t mean she’s a professional, I mean she is, like Ford trucks, “Professional Grade.”

But when she noticed, she died on the floor laughing. It was the first time a woman had laughed at my frank and beans when I could laugh with her. Not since I placed a whoopie cushion under the sheets have we laughed so hard during sex.

We consummated our marriage for the 8,732th time and went to bed.

The next morning I didn’t think much more about it. I showered, dressed and went to the computer to go to work.

About 1pm my redhead came in to remind me I had my annual physical at 2pm.

At this point I need to tell you a little about the relationship we have with my family physician. My wife’s best friend of 14 years or so is his wife. Naturally we have done lots of things socially and each family knows a good deal about what goes on in the other family.

I show up at Doc’s office around 1:55pm, sign in and pick up an ancient copy of Better Homes and Gardens to wait for my name to be called. I was just finishing an article entitled “Using Throw Pillows for Wall Coverings” when it hit me: This was my annual physical. My friend Doctor Dave was not just going to listen to my heart, he was going to check my naughty parts for hernia as well as stick his “digital” up my “rectal” for an “exam.” And I still had humorously manscaped bait and tackle.

Then they called my name.

I did the routine with the nurse. Weight. Blood pressure. “Strip to your underwear, put on the paper smock and the doctor will be with you shortly.”

So I stripped to my boxers and nervously waited for Doctor Dave and his Digit of Delight. My mind raced trying to come up with something witty to say or do that would make my cartoonish hair cut seem like a well planned prank.

Much too soon, he came in. My breathing was rapid as he listened to my heart. “What’s the problem, Kevin? You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”

Yeah, right.

Next came the shorts drop and hernia grope. He had me stand while he sat on his little wheelie stool. “Ok, drop your shorts.”

I sucked up my pride and dropped my shorts. There was a pause. He just sat there staring. Without looking up. He stifled a chortle.

“Kevin you didn’t have to go to so much trouble for me.”

Anyone know the name of a good doctor?

Kevin Scott writes My Redhead Life Blog - Living with my own (Drive Me) Crazy Redhead about the adventures he and his redhead wife have day to day. He is a full-time writer, eking out a living by stealing other people’s ideas and claiming they are his own. He lives hand-to-mouth, which makes it hard to carry on conversations and stays just one step ahead of the revenuers.

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