This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2017, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

Last week I asked readers to submit suggestions for people who deliberately offend them. Reader David sent this: "When someone says something to me that sounds like an insult, this is my reply: 'That's an interesting perception, but I certainly don't share it.' " Reader Dave goes on to say this usually shuts down the deliberate offender.

Meanwhile, I pulled these two letters out of the Ask Ann Bag.

Dear Ann Cannon • I have been trying to get my diabetic husband to go back to the doctor for over two years. He totally brushed off my concerns — until he landed in the hospital for a week. He's committed to managing his diabetes now, which is great. I know that saying "I told you so" won't help matters. But the fact is, I DID tell him so, and I'm pretty angry with him for damaging his health, as well as dismissing my advice. How do I hold my tongue, assuage my anger and go forward?

— Exasperated Wife

Dear Exasperated • I don't blame you for being angry, actually. When someone has a health problem, it becomes (to varying degrees) the entire family's problem. The fact that your husband didn't listen to you has only added insult to injury, right?

I applaud your efforts to hold your tongue. Words can't be unsaid, and speaking in anger is usually counterproductive. However! I think you are well within your rights to (calmly) say something like, "I wish you'd gotten on top of things earlier, but I'm so pleased you're taking care of yourself now."

If you don't express your displeasure in a controlled way, it could come burbling up in surprising ways later on. Like, suddenly you find yourself exploding at your spouse while standing in a dog park on Saturday afternoon about something that happened a year ago and he's all, "Wait! Where did that come from?" Not that I would know from personal experience.

Meanwhile. Here's a memo to the rest of us: Don't make your partners write letters to Ask Ann Cannon. Take care of your health, for your sake and the sakes of the people who love you.

Dear Ann Cannon • I look forward to spring, my favorite season, and with it beautiful weather, flowers and baseball. The only problem with spring is that it is followed closely by summer. Ugh. I hate the heat! The only thing that gets me through summer is more baseball.

My wife likes baseball, too. The problem is that she is rarely willing to stay for the whole game. Once in 1995 or 1996, she made us leave a Bees game in the seventh inning. Only recently was I able to forgive her for that, because the game ended up lasting 17 innings. That much baseball in a 24-hour period would have kept me happy for a decade. What can I do to convince my beloved spouse that staying for the entire game is really important?

— Baseball Man

Dear Baseball Man • OK. I'm pretty sure you're my husband, Ken, right? I suspect this is the case, because we just had this exact conversation, after which you sat down at your computer and wrote something in a secretive fashion.

I'd like to point out here that I am always happy to stay for nine—or 9 million — innings when we go to games on the road. Remember how we spent all day at Wrigley Field waiting for a rain-delayed game to begin? And how we stayed to the very end to watch Greg Maddux (genius!) pitch the entire game? That's because I didn't have anything else to do. No deadlines. No appointments. No housework.

Unfortunately, real life doesn't always accommodate long games, which is why the Baseball Powers That Be are currently searching for ways to make the game shorter. Not that I think notifying the ump you're planning to walk the batter ahead of time will do much to help, frankly. But whatever.

Rest assured that I am looking forward to watching the Bees in action this summer. With you! (For two hours at a time.) (Period.) (End of story.)

Do you have a question for Ann? Send it to askann@sltrib.com or visit the Ask Ann Cannon page on Facebook.