The Hubby Wants My Life Insurance Money. Fact.

Why else would I get into my car and sit on a razor sharp blade?  Hell, why was this even IN my car on the driver's seat? 

Actually, the blade wasn't even out, and technically a slice to my lard butt wouldn't at all be fatal, but you see my point.  He's out for the money.

This must be why sometimes a random can of corn will fly off of a pantry shelf when I open the door, or a can of Pillsbury biscuits will fall out of the fridge at me. 

When you think about it, he totally fails in his assassination attempts. Death by can of corn?  Head trauma caused by refrigerator biscuit? Dude needs to practice harder & put forth some more creative effort.

 I'm on to you Mister.  Next time I cook dinner, I'm wearing a  helmet.  And the next time I get into my car?  I'm padding my ass with Charmin.

Go big or go home, Hubby.

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