Babies. We all know and love them… until they rip our vagina. I’m pretty sure a ripped vagina is when the ovulating obsession starts. We become obsessed with when our bodies are ovulating, and avoid sperm like the plague during those times. I hate sperm so much that when I played ‘put the sperm on the uterus’ at a baby shower, I damn near put my sperm off the paper.
I’m way too lazy to track my basal body temperature, finger myself to check my cervix, or even keep a notebook on my night stand. I would already have 10 babies if those were the only ways to track my ovulation! I have things to do and people to see; err… people to do and things to seemen. What if this working lady ended up in an elevator? What about the bathroom of a restaurant? Maybe the gym locker room? Do you see what I mean? We can’t be getting hot and heavy and suddenly I say, “WAIT! I don’t have my ovulation calendar to write this down!”
Currently my egg is making it’s journey down my Fallopian tube in hopes of meeting a strapping young sperm. What an awesome Valentine’s Day gift, right? No! I even showered for a little bow chicka wow wow! (Well, I showered yesterday before realizing I was ovulating. What a waste of time!) I guess there will be a little tube sock action tonight? Or maybe he will get lucky and I will bake him an apple pie instead?
A dry spell clarification: I was on my period from 1/29 – 2/3; my period was followed by a 2 day hiatus because of a treatment, and we missed the 3 day sex window.
Let’s recap what we learned about ovulating
Babies = sperm + eggs
Sperm + eggs = ((ripped vagina + work)^no sleep + no showers)/ cute
Therefore, we can deduce that
Babies = ((ripped vagina + work)^no sleep + no showers)/ cute
Just say no to any forms of sexual relations that might result in sperm being released while you are ovulating. And for the record, you can’t get pregnant if you swallow; however, I’m way too selfish for that kind of nonsense.