I have yet to borrow the neighbor's double sided axe or my brother-in-laws .38 but he'd better watch out.

My husband is such a romantic, sweet guy. Lately, he has just been saying the sweetest things to his wife, who is 20 weeks pregnant with his child. For example, the other day I was joking about how old all of our friends were getting and that I, not surprisingly, am still the youngest. He said "But you have us all beaten with stretchmarks." I think I ignored him for about 30 minutes.

Then yesterday, we were out shopping and a lady came up to us who had 4 year old twins and a 15 month old. She told us that it gets more and more fun and that soon we will want another one. I made some comment about already being there and she made another comment that suggested she thought we were trying, not halfway there. I told Todd that I was a little frustrated, I mean don't I look pregnant and not just fat He told me he was pleading the fifth because I was asking him if I looked fat. I think pleading the fifth suggests he too thinks I just look fat.

Then one day he choose Max over me to sit with him ont he couch and told me I couldn't share his blanket.

When I made a comment about how cute Bailey's clothes were yesterday, he made a comment that I had gotten rid of all my cute clothes.

I could be angry. Even hurt. Instead I'm watching T.V. Snapped.

We do have Dish Network. We don't ever watch it with the exception of laundry day when I watch television to help with the motonous job of sorting, folding and putting away 13 loads of laundry. I Tivo several programs for these times. Crap really. A Baby Story, Adoption Stories, Jon and his Miserable Wife and their 8 children. But lately I have been bored with my program choices. I wanted to spice things up. Then I remembered one of my favorite shows from back before I was pregnant. It is called Snapped and it is a program about women who snap and murder people, usually their husbands.

It is actually a pretty interesting program. It's like CSI, but 30 minutes instead of an hour, and told documentary style. With the exception of no Grisham, it fills a nice void when I'm matching 67 pairs of socks.

It turns out women kill their husbands for all sorts or reasons. Some of them want to live with their Cuban boyfriends, some are trying to make their house payments with life insurance money, and some...well, some just snap. I've yet to see anyone kill their husbands because they begrudged them a spot on the sofa, but you never know...