If I go to prison, it won't be for blog reading.
It will be for husbandicide. I'm going to kill the fucker.
1. He broke my oven. In fairness, he was trying to clean in it, and took the wrong screws off. So I have no shelves in the oven, which makes cooking more than one thing impossible. It's a Bank Holiday weekend (of course) and so no-one can fix it until Tuesday at the earliest.
2. He refuses to walk the dogs together. Which means when he takes one, I'm left with the other. They get distressed, cry their heart out and pee on the damn floor....which I have to clean up.
3. He keeps asking if my mood is because I am pregnant. How the fuck he thinks that is likely is beyond me, but I swear, if he asks me again, I will not be responsible for what happens.
Kill kill kill.
I'd write to you if you wound up in jail although. to me, it sounds like it might be justifiable homicide.
Posted by: Pez | Sunday, 27 August 2006 at 17:36