How to Kill Your Husband

I hate the sodding menopause. Too hot, too cold, too grumpy, too sad, too old. Too many white hairs, too much of me. It's just too much!

And don't get me started on hormones! Just don't!

There are times when you are overcome with sadness. There are times when rage just wants to consume you. There's times when a simple act can set your teeth on edge, and there's times when you just want to kill your husband.

Now, I'm an intelligent woman. During my childhood I read every Agatha Christie novel, many times. I've watched every episode of Bones, Castle and Monk. I know many, many ways in which people can kill, and many, many, many ways they can make mistakes and be caught. I most definitely don't want to be caught.

My first idea was very quickly dismissed. It was simple - a knitting needle rammed right up the nose. But that would be so messy. It would definitely ruin my needle and my knitting.

At a friend's wedding a few years back, the best man said to the bride during his speech, "Congratulations, you are sitting beside the person most likely to kill you." This resulted in much laughter, but it came to mind today. People are most likely to be killed by someone they know. As the 'grieving widow', I would be the prime suspect.

Without warning, the Hitchcock film 'Strangers on a Train' came to mind. Two strangers want to "get rid" of someone and whilst on the train they talk about "exchange" murders, so neither will be caught. There would be no connection between the murder and the murderee, nothing to connect them. The idea was appealing. Where would I find a person who wanted someone killed? ... Would I be able to kill a perfect stranger? It's oh so easy to want to kill someone you know, an overbearing, obnoxious, self-satisfied someone. But a stranger?

Perhaps it might be better to go kayaking at Port Erin? We could take out a double kayak. Then when we were out a good distance, I could start rocking the boat, and capsize. As a novice kayak-er, this would not be terribly suspicious. Then, when we are in water, I could clamber up on to his shoulders and drown him.

I'm a much better swimmer than him! I could swim to the kayak and hang on for dear life, shout and scream... 

Sod it, that dislocated shoulder a few years ago! It's going to put kayaking right out of the question.

(pause)

Oh! Speak of the devil! Here he comes!

(pause)

Oh, a cup of tea, Earl Grey, hot, with lemon... a gluten-free shortbread biscuit... and a gentle kiss on the forehead. (sigh)

I love that man.