Dear Dr. Snee,
I have a 12-year-old son who has recently started spending a lot of time in the bathroom. A lot of time. When I ask him what he’s doing, he refuses to look me in the eye and says that he “was just, you know, going to the bathroom.” As a mother, I’d like to believe him, but what kind of kid goes to the bathroom three times in one hour?! What should I do?
–Potty-pooper
12-years-old, eh? Inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, you say? No complete sentences in this medical advice column yet?
It’s obvious that your son is not going to the bathroom for acceptable reasons. He is committing the repeated sin of “knowing” himself. While the liberal media would like you to believe this is normal behavior for young men, he is in danger of developing into more of a sexual deviant.
Think about it: if he’s spending so much time with himself in the bathroom now, what do you think will happen when he discovers bathhouses and truck stops?
No, you need to nip this behavior in the bud. Unfortunately, you’re his mother. I’m guessing that, since you’re writing to me, there is no man in the house. I’ll give you the benefit of doubt and just assume you’re a widow. (I’m sorry about the loss of your husband.)
As an Internet doctor and twenty-mumble-year-old male, I am glad that you came to me to tell you how to raise your son. It’s this experience that allows me to suggest the only real solution to your problem: lie to him.
Sure, you could show him where it says masturbation is wrong in the Bible, but that means having to answer a bunch of questions like, “What does ‘thou’ mean?” Plus, you don’t want him to look too closely at the Good Book, unless you want the pages about Sodom and Gomorrah dog-eared.
Here’s what you tell him instead*: sperm doesn’t die so long as it stays wet.
*For best effect, lower the lights and shine a flashlight under your face. (Man, that’s creepy!)
When he flushes his seed, it continues to swim through the pipes until it reaches the murky depths of your local sewer system. Once there, it will continue swimming until it reaches the discarded eggs of an invitro clinic.
The sperm will fertilize these eggs, and a new subspecies of humans will develop, feeding in their larval stage on all the corn floating around. They will grow twisted and stinky, mastering the alligators as their cohorts in evil.
And when you walk past the toilet in the dead of night, you can hear them in the pipes, gurgling. Listen closely, and you’ll hear them ask, “Where’s my child suppooooort? I wanna go to Haaaaarvaaaaaaaard.”
There was one kid who ignored the hissing, thinking it was the back-tank topping off. He sat down … AND A HAND REACHED UP AND GRABBED HIS DICKERDOODLE!
Just for good measure, hand him any issues of the X-Men you have laying around that feature the Morlocks. Then mention how you’re glad that these aren’t your grandchildren, “right?”
This should free up your bathroom. If you’re lucky, he’ll even volunteer to ethnically cleanse the septic tank.
Rick Snee is not, in any way, a licensed medical professional or an actor that plays one on television. He’s just really opinionated, which is good enough for blogging. To submit your own questions to Dr. Snee, Guynecologist, post comments below or email the good doctor.
I can place that exact comic panel. That’s kind of scary, almost in a “knowing myself” kind of way.