“Comparing penis sizes is a much more nuanced and sophisticated way to determine who’s right and who’s wrong than something as clunky and uncouth as a debate.” — Jared Kintz, author.

Times are definitely changing, and I am determined, as always, to roll with them. Yesterday, I got an e-mail from a woman who disliked something I wrote about animals, she said “and I bet you have a small penis, too.”

And then, this morning, as I was still pondering what to tweet in  response, I got another message, this one from another woman, she said, “it is obvious that Maria pushes you around, and you seem to follow her around like a milk-starved baby goat, and you say you do whatever she says. Another man with a big mouth and a small penis.”

Well, I am not running for President, but I do feel that my manhood has been called into question.

It is true that I do what my wife tells me, and it is also true that I do not cross her lightly, she is half Sicilian and half German, and I had a dream once that she was walking barefoot in a small village on the water in Sicily, branding an enormous bread knife and threatening to remove one of my most precious parts (there was a time as recently as a week ago, when I would never use the word “penis” on my blog) because I was flirting with another woman.

I ran and hid.

This set the tone, I think, after that I just decided to do what I was told and say these precious words: “you’re probably right dear.” Yesterday, hobbling around on my blistered feet (too much walking in New York City) I went to lift up a bucket of water and Maria appeared behind me like a spirit.

“You are not lifting that bucket,” she said. “Put it down.”

As I have often seen my beloved Red do, I lowered my head, put my tail between my legs, and dropped the bucket.

This very same morning, Chloe nosed me right out of the pasture gate and nearly plowed right through me, she was trying to get to the barn for her morning hay. Fate began eating chicken droppings by the roost and totally blew me off while I yelled pointlessly at her to stop. Zelda ran me and Fate right out of the pole barn when we dared to try and move the sheep.

And the hens came right up on to the porch while I was right there and began eating the barn cat’s food, ignoring me completely while I stomped my foot and waved a broom around. It was a rout. The barn cats charged the open door to come inside, even as I tried to stop them – “it’s warm out here,” I thundered.  They ignored me and rushed into the living room to sit on their favorite sofas.

You can see where I am going here, and it just got worse.

I went out to commune with the donkeys, Lulu and Fanny, they were not in the mood, they were hungry, they turned their backs on me quite haughtily and walked away, as if I were a rock or a fence-post, they seemed almost to jeer at me. “Your hands are tiny,” I could almost hear  them saying, “you can’t brush us!”

There are a lot of strong women around the farm.

Red and I are the only males, we have learned how to get along, and I’ll give you a tip, it isn’t by arguing with all of these women.  Fate chews on Red all the time, he just wags his tail and sits still. She steals his treats and jumps on him when he’s in the car.  To get along, you have to go along. Don’t worry, I often console my gentle dog, you have a large penis, I am sure.

Perhaps I was delusional this morning, it seemed like a dream, it seemed like my entire world was looking at me and pointing to my penis, and laughing at me.  I could hear them all chanting, “look at his hands. see how tiny they are.” And if my hands were tiny, well, you know what else they were suggesting might be tiny.

I want to tell you that Linda L, the first woman I ever dated and had sex with, told me that it was “the greatest sex that I have ever had.” So there. I didn’t learn until later that it was the first sex Linda had ever had (me too) but by that time, we were no longer in touch. I wonder if she would give me a reference though.

I worried all morning about how to handle this, I did feel my masculinity, or what was left of it, was right on the line. I couldn’t let it slide, but I also promised myself a few years ago that I would be honest, and never lie for the rest of my life. You know, be authentic, stand in your truth, you can’t do that if you are small.

But I do want to be truthful. So here it is the truth about my hands. They are pretty large, XL for gloves.

As for my penis (pause):

It is small. I’ve said it. It has always been small. My body is pretty big, but I cannot guarantee you that my penis is large. Because it isn’t. If it was large, all of these women would not be pushing me and Red around all day. They would be listening to me, not telling me what to do.

I’ve had no complaints mind you, creativity can trump length much of the time. My penis has always been big enough, is the way I would put it. But it is not huge. Or even large.

And I am 68 years old, if that counts for anything. I don’t suppose it does, it wasn’t large 20 years ago either.

And I’ll tell you this, men with big penises are invariably dumb, scientists have proven this again and again. I’ve heard this from doctors that I trust. The smaller the penis, the bigger the brain, I know this for a fact. Something to do with nourishment going from one place to the other at birth. Really. You can Google it.

No man has ever had a big penis and a big brain. (If you follow the news, you know this is true.)

It’s a big step for any man to say this, but Red and I have both learned the hard way what it takes to be a real man. And it is not, fortunately, just a big penis. You have to find smart and hardy women and do what they tell you, and things work out.

I guess I shouldn’t draw Red into this, I don’t really know if he has a big penis or not, I have not really checked it out, that would be weird to me. And I don’t know a lot of men with big mouths and small penises, it isn’t something we men talk about when we get together, unless we are running for President of the United States.

I just wanted company in my moment of revelation. It is not easy to stand alone on this.

I hope you won’t think less of me, or my blog, or my books. I hope I can remain large in your eyes, if not in every part of my life. The truth is out. I have a small penis. I guarantee it. I guarantee.