Natural Family Planning (NFP) and the Oilfield Worker

Well.  Let me tell you.  This here is not a light subject.   You miss your husband; he comes home...you haven’t see him in fifteen days, and you...you want to make him a cup of coffee.  No!  Duh!  You want to kiss his face off!  Oops...sorry...wait, wait...too much too soon.  OK.  Let me back up. 

Coffee.  You want to make him a cup of coffee.

He smiles at you, and you smile at him, and there are many, many children in between you on the couch.  However, your eye contact allows subliminal messages to transmit, and, in seconds, through the skulls of the children, you are communicating sweet nothings.  One raise of his eyebrow, and the deal is assumed to be sealed, and your husband says in a best-daddy-ever voice, “Well, let’s get these children to bed,” where he will tuck them in, and I do mean extra super duper tucked in, like with the blankets so tight they are all like gasping, “Too tight...dad...it hurts...too tight, dad....” 

But, no...before he shuffles them down the hall, he sees you attempting more eye contact...and dad is confused, thinking, “Why more eye contact...let’s get this show on the road,” and you are raising both eyebrows now, grunting almost, and he looks you square in the eye and goes deep into your messaging system and sees the unthinkable,

“Ovulation.” 

He jumps back, breathless. 

Did he really just see that? 

He peeks into your mind again, and your menstrual calendar is posted on the wall of your consciousness,

“Day 14.”

Retreat. 

“Children, Let’s read books!”

He rounds the children up by their scruffs and sweeps them away, grabbing random reading material from tabletops...ushering everyone and everything into your bed, stuffing all of it between the two of you, saving you a ¼” slither of the mattress for your own purposes, and acting dead when you arrive an hour later.

Can you ask a boss to move around the schedule for reasons such as these?