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.

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