To snip, or not to snip

That is the question. I tried to place myself in my son’s shoes but he doesn’t have any yet and that’s good because I have a feeling passing a baby through the birth canal is difficult enough without footwear. So I imagined him entering the world and crying at the sudden coldness and disquieting quantity of elbow room. Immediately after he begins to pull himself together he catches a glimpse of his cone shaped head in the mirror, laughs in a surprisingly awkward way, glances at Mom’s breast and declares, “must consume large quantities!” Then his foot is painfully pricked and bent as some of his precious blood is stolen away. Then I imagined the circumcision. After recovering consciousness I thought about it again. Arising from passing out a second time I wisely decided not to think about it anymore.