This seems to have worked on B. He scheduled his SA for Wednesday! Woot! This was something that we've talked about for...well, way too freaking long! There would always be a lot of subject-changing every time the self-love-in-a-cup-for-medicine convo came up. Unfortunately, I am like the ADD Poster child so I'm very susceptible to this technique.
Me: When are you going to get your SA?
B: Do you know if strawberries are in season?
Me: I LOVE STRAWBERRIES!
There is another issue that has been a point of much discussion, ahem, dirty looks & covert fighting tactics by yours truly. We will call this the Tobacco is Satan argument. B is shall we say, a social smoker. He smokes when he has a drink. And he's Irish. So, that's a regular thing. Now, I have no interest in being a mother to my husband. I don't want to nag & preach. I want him to be healthy. I want him to not be stanky. But lately I'm a little like the Fertility Police. I want his sperms to be strong like gladiators! In his defense, he's been trying very hard to quit and has cut back a lot. But still....grrr....evil looks come out whenever he has a moment of weakness.
Maybe the real problem has something to do with B's politics. He's an independent. And apparently my spleen is getting a lot of sperm canoodling action.
ps. Never google images for "strong sperm" unless you want to be traumatized FOREVER