Today we went to IKEA and spent more money than we have ever spent on furniture in our lives so far, which was only about $50 more than the time we went to IKEA last week and bought furniture and this fact made me go very pale and break out into a cold sweat in the middle of the checkout lane. I couldn’t physically swipe my card. Ishi^[1] had to do it.

Today I came home with this (half price!) and this (in birch), which in addition to two of these and this (also in birch), brings the furniture item count in this household to the highest it’s ever been, even pre-flood. We are coming very close to living like actual, real-live grownups do. I KNOW! SHOCKING!

Today Ishi and I spent two hours at IKEA, one hour at lunch, one hour at Michaels, and then another hour at a scrapbooking store, and we didn’t have one single argument. Not one. And? He suggested going to the scrapbooking store (which I hadn’t seen yet) when he saw how thrilled I was by the scrapbooking section at Michaels!

We got home and watched the hockey game while he had some wine and quickly put this together.

It’s been possibly the most perfect day we’ve ever had. What a great record to break!

1. My husband. Not his real name, of course. I just got tired of typing “my husband”. “Ishi” (ee-shee) is Hebrew for “my husband” and it’s easier to type. You could almost see that coming, couldn’t ya? [↩]

I’ve often wondered what kind of advice Charles Darwin would offer to infertile couples if he were to have an advice column. Like a Dear Abby or Miss Manners thing but with all his answers being inspired by his famous contribution to evolutionary biology, namely, natural selection.

So, being half of an infertile couple, and realizing that this is the second cycle in a row that I have observed intense and burning hatred of my husband during “that magical time” when really, really hating someone is totally not conducive to the type of activity needed to procreate with them, and being fairly cognizant of some of the rules of nature, I concluded it would be incredibly helpful if Darwin were still here to offer his sage advice. Perhaps it would have gone something like this:

Dear Darwin,

I have been married eight and a half years, during which time we have conceived only once. I found a great book which is teaching me how to observe my cycles so my mate and I can be sure we are engaging in the relevant activities at the appropriate time.

Unfortunately, we are realizing that during the appropriate time, certain changes take place in my body that the book doesn’t mention. For example, I develop the ability to smell my mate’s offensive foot odor from ten feet away. Also, my eyes develop the astonishing ability to see through walls to perceive that he has left the toilet seat up, and I can hear snorts at the end of his laugh that I can’t hear at any other time of the month.

My needs change as well. Usually I enjoy close physical proximity with my mate, but at the precise time in my cycle that such proximity would be productive, I find I would much rather get just close enough to remove some vital part of his anatomy in order to bludgeon him to death with it. Needless to say, my mate’s survival instincts prevent him from coming close to the den during these days, despite my loud insistence that he do his male duties or lose his male goodies.

Everyone in the world of evolutionary biology hails your theory of Natural Selection as being as close to a universal truth as we’ll ever get, so please tell me, Mr. Darwin. How can Natural Selection help us have a child?

Sincerely,
Mrs. Half an Infertile Couple

Dear Mrs. Half,

For the love of all that is holy, do not reproduce. Get a puppy. No. Get a goldfish. And only one. If you get two, they will form a suicide pact. Should two such woefully incompatible and mismatched human beings continue to try to procreate, Natural Selection will see to it that the offspring hates each other and you. And if your offspring have offspring, well, they will just eat it. Take my advice. Sterilize yourselves and have sex with hot random inebriated strangers at that precise time in your cycle so as to further the genes of people who deserve it, for they have been blessed by Natural Selection.

Sincerely,
Charles Darwin

Dear Mr. Darwin,

If Natural Selection isn’t smart enough to get around Clomid, wine, roses, and IUI’s, well, I guess we aren’t too worried about being blessed by it. Thanks anyway.

Mr. & Mrs. Infertile