The Detachable Penis

elizabeth cox article

After an endless week, I had finally made it to the weekend.  I staggered to my room, collapsed into a chair, and dumped the contents of my bag onto the floor. There, amidst my notebooks and gum wrappers, was my boyfriend’s penis. Ugh. I had forgotten I’d agreed to take care of it for the weekend. I got out my phone and texted him:

Any particular instructions for the care of your penis?

Yeah, make sure you take it to the bathroom every few hours so it can pee.

Ok. It’ll just pee if I take it to the bathroom?

Well, you might have to give it a little tug for encouragement.

Ugh. Ok. Anything else?

You could pet it from time to time. It likes attention.

The peeing part went ok until I brought the penis to hang out with my friends that night. I couldn’t leave it home unsupervised. About halfway through the hang out, I started getting nervous — did the penis need to pee? Would it have an accident in my bag if I left it in there for too long?

Having navigated the night out and made it back home without the penis making a mess in my bag, I was finally ready for bed.  As I moved to get under the covers, the penis, which was sitting on my desk, caught my eye. Should I bring it to bed with me? I guessed I should, and gingerly placed it on my pillow. Would it get cold? Maybe. I tucked it in, just to be safe.

Here’s the good news: the detachable penis incident was a dream. Can you imagine a world in which we lent friends and loved ones our body parts for the weekend? Could you watch my left hand for the afternoon? Make sure to crack my knuckles every so often! Some moisturizer before bed would be nice.

The detachable penis could be a babysitter’s worst nightmare, or it could be way easier to babysit than an actual child.  On one hand, children can think and move on their own, so they require constant supervision. On the other, there’s no risk of sitting on them or breaking them by accident, and they can tell you when they need to pee (though sometimes they don’t). So clearly, pros and cons.

Maybe the body part exchange would be more akin to borrowing friends’ stuff than to babysitting, but with no margin for error. Shit I lost your arm! I’m so so sorry, I’ll buy you a new one! Or: I ripped your favorite eyeball, but don’t worry, I’ll get my mom to sew it up the next time I’m home! Or: I feel so so bad about puking on Emma’s nose when I borrowed it last weekend, so I washed it and baked her cookies. Do you think she’ll still be mad? Definitely, if she can still smell through her detachable nose.

Of course, it’s possible I’m selling the detachable penis short. Detachable body parts could be valuable tools for establishing trust.  I’m trusting you to take care of my left boob for the day.  If you pass this test you’re upgraded from friend with benefits to boyfriend. Who needs to DTR when you can just exchange body parts? It’s like a high-risk trust fall.

All in all, I’m glad we live in a world where we can’t detach body parts at will, although I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to have a penis for the weekend.