My husband is trying to kill me.
Apparently I haven’t been a good enough wife in some way or another and my husband has decided he should trade me in. I say trade me in; what I really mean is get rid of me once and for all. And this is how he plans to do it…
He asked if I fancied going on a skiiing holiday.
There, I said it.
This might seem to be quite a nice suggestion to you, but it is not. When we got our Wii Fit and I did the initial balance test, it asked me if I often found myself tripping up when I walked down the street. I began to wonder if someone was following me. In November 2008, I tripped up at school and broke my wrist. In June 2009, I tripped up at work and broke my big toe. In two places. I was on crutches for the rest of term. Well, I was on one crutch, because my wrist was recovering from another injury and I was wearing a splint on it.
When SL made this skiing holiday suggestion, I looked up from what I was doing, blank-faced. He pressed on. “Snow, skis, it’ll be great, don’t you fancy it?”. Continued blank look. Confused look from SL. I raise an eyebrow, wait a second or two and open my mouth to say something. And then I stopped, because I heard a sound…
ahh, it was the penny dropping. A look of understanding broke over SL’s face, as he said “ahh, I know what you’re going to say. I know. Yeah. You, snow, skis. Not so great. Ahh. OK.”
So it turns out there is not a price on my head after all. I’m just married to a dumbass. Phew.