The fertility clinic called today to give me the results of the analysis of the Specimen. I already knew from my previous semen analysis that My Sperm are ready for action, but will need oddly-shaped headwear if attending a royal gala. But now I also know some details about this particular effusion, which is the one that counts.

First, my sperm count is 8x the normal level to be considered fertile. Apparently, under different circumstances, I could have been prolific as an Irish Mormon. (Is there a macho bravado thing that should accompany this revelation? Because I don’t really feel it. I’m more bothered about all that useless fecundity.)

Second, there are more golden retrievers than potheads. They are ready to be combed.

Third, they are at least average in speed, rating a 2.5 on a scale of 0-4. Not exactly Michael Phelps, but they will do. I’m not sure how relevant this is anyway, since we are using ICSI; you don’t have to be fast if you’re being shot out of a cannon.

Now, assuming encasing them in carbonite (or, whatever) doesn’t damage them, there will be no need for a second retrieval. Under the circumstances of that first experience, I’m happy to hear that.