Late Night Reruns

There comes a time when husbands finally "get it." After the frustration and cluelessness about IF, eventually they just understand. No more "let's keep trying, I just know it'll happen naturally this time," no more "I don't know why you're so upset by a BFN, you said you didn't think it had worked," no more "I'm tired of having sex when you're fertile, let's just do it for fun." At some point, they have that epiphany, a sudden understanding and empathy for what you've been through. And eventually, they show that knowledge and curse at Sex and the City.

Late at night, there really isn't anything that great on, even now that we have cable again. So, you end up watching random episodes of SATC, with all sorts of words omitted because it's on TBS or some wimpy channel like that and they don't allow any cursing. You don't really pay much attention to the TV, you pet the dogs and just leave it on as background noise. And then you hear "just because we can't have a baby doesn't mean we can't live our lives" or something very similar. Your husband's mouth drops open, and you suddenly realize that he's no longer an IF idiot.

Later in the show there's a cardboard baby, the whole "I can't give you a real one, but here's one to look at and make you 100X's more depressed" concept. R yelled at the TV, called the guy an inconsiderate douchebag, promised me to do whatever it takes to give me a real baby and never do something that cruel to me, EVER. I told him that if he ever did, I'd pack my stuff instantly, and use the cardboard baby as kindling to set his truck on fire. He agreed that it would be suitable punishment, that actually somebody as ass-ish as that deserved way more than a flaming truck.

I think I kinda like this husband of mine. Now that he's grown a brain, he might be worth holding onto.