my wife makes me sick

Yesterday was our wedding anniversary. Mags wrote a touching poem and shared it with the world to illustrate her loving and caring feelings towards me. I now believe that this was just one example of an intricate web of lies she has spun as part of an elaborate cover-up to hide her true feelings and devious plot. Last night, our anniversary, my wife attempted to murder me.

I was eager, excited, and hungry when I came home and was informed that she had a great dinner planned for us. She was going to be trying out some new recipes and they sounded delicious. On the menu: Chicken wrapped around tomato-basil feta cheese topped with Italian-style bread crumbs and basil pesto mashed potatoes. She had apparently gotten the recipes from the internet, probably after looking up how to make home-made explosives and gun silencers. She prepared the meal and presented it to me with a smile. Her carefully laid plan was about to be executed and I never saw it coming.

The meal was yummy. Really, really, yummy. The chicken was the best chicken dish to have come out of our kitchen. The potatoes were good as well. I have become accustomed to Hungry Jack instant mashed potatoes so you put some real potatoes that have been jazzed up a bit in front of me and, well, I'’m coming back for seconds.

It was during dinner when I started to feel a little off. My nose started to run just a bit and my eyes became slightly irritated. I told Mags that I thought my allergies were starting to act up and she immediately told me it was because I had spent the previous few hours in our back room on the computer. She told me that the back room was filthy and dusty. I had not noticed any of this apparent dust and dirt that I was surrounded in, but that's not that unusual. I assumed that she was correct and that indeed I had just spent too much time in a dusty room. She was successful at throwing me off her scent for a couple of hours.

I moved out of the supposedly dusty room and watched some TV. After a couple hours things had gotten kicked up a notch and I knew I was in trouble. My eyes were very red and I didn'’t know if it was because they were simply bloodshot or because I had been trying to claw them out. My nose was running a marathon; it had just passed four Kenyan men and was heading down the final stretch. My ears hurt and my lips were swelling. I couldn'’t imagine the perfect storm of pollen, pet dander, and dust that would cause me to have such a reaction.

I drove to Kroger and immediately grabbed some Clariten, purchased it at an U-Scan, and ran to their drinking fountain. I downed the pill and then ducked into the bathroom to see if I looked as bad as I felt. Inspecting my face in the mirror I saw that I was all blotchy and red. I was no longer able to breath through my nose and my throat made a wheezy sound with each exhale. I was a miserable wreck and was begging the Clariten Gods to grant my prayers for relief. I did not want to go back to my "dusty"” house until the Clariten kicked in a bit so I decided to walk up and down each aisle of the store and focus on my condition. I tried to think of alternative events that may have caused my rapidly deteriorating state. I wondered about an allergic food reaction (I am allergic to nuts), but ruled that out because I knew all of the ingredients in the meal I had eaten three hours prior. I then recalled a program I had watched on the Discovery Channel the day prior about how detectives were able to crack the case of the woman who put cyanide in her husband's Tylenol and killed him. Had my wife poisoned the Aleve that I took when I came home from work with a headache? I didn'’t have a clue but knew that something was definitely wrong with me and perhaps the best place for me was not strolling around a grocery store but maybe the hospital. After 45 minutes at the store I was about to leave and go seek some medical advice when I began to think that perhaps I was possibly starting to feel slight improvement. I headed home and started looking for answers.

Upon arriving home I began my interrogation. As expected, she played dumb for a bit but eventually she agreed to inspect the label on the container of pesto sauce. Feigning surprise, my wife admitted that she cooked the potatoes with a pesto sauce that contains walnuts. Who puts walnuts in pesto?!? She must have sought this particular brand out. She claims it was an accident. I have doubts. I offer the following exchange as an example of her contempt:

Me: "You'’re not allergic to anything, are you?"

Her: "No, because I'’m not weak."

Am I considering divorce? No. It takes three attempts at my life to warrant such a drastic measure.

I now return this blog to its rightful owner.