Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I beseech you today to listen to my tale of woe, for while it is true the I am culpable in the spontaneous combustion of my husband, there were extenuating circumstances that, if you only knew, would no doubt help you to understand
why I did what I did.
Now granted, my husband is a wonderful person. He works hard to bring home a paycheck, he is good with his daughter, and he is kind and loving to me. Sometimes he even helps out around the house. Any woman would be lucky to call him her own. But occasionally, just occasionally, he forgets his wonderfulness and reverts back to his base nature- being a man, and therefore clueless.
Plus you must also understand my state of mind. It may or may not have been a certain "time of the month" as they say. I'd cut down on my chocolate intake in an effort to drop the rest of this baby weight. And on top of that, I had just taken the baby for her 2 month vaccinations earlier that day, and she was fussy.
Very fussy.
As in, she had been crying for the last NINE HOURS.
(I'm sure anyone who has had to console a crying baby for nine hours will sympathize with me. But that is not why I fricasseed my husband).
I did not do it because he was late getting home from work. Or because he had a hockey game and couldn't relieve me of mommy duty for 5 freaking minutes so that I could go to the bathroom and wash the spit-up out of my hair.
It was not because when he did come home, he didn't say anything about the house being cleaned and vacuumed, even though I had to do it all with only one hand while the other one held his inconsolable child. (Although a "Wow honey, the house looks great!" would have been nice. In fact, I would have even settled for an "Oh good. You cleaned the house. Another day or two and the health department would have shut us down"). I didn't even roast him when he came in, kicked his boots off in my nice clean foyer and tossed his bag down on my nice clean table.
Although he may have begun to smolder at that point.
Nor did he notice that all the dishes had been gathered up from where he leaves them scattered around the house, washed, dried and consequently put away. In fact, I did not say a word when pulled one of those nice washed, dried and put away glasses down from the cabinet, fixed himself a drink and then left the empty glass sitting on the counter AGAIN.
I did not burn him to a crisp when he failed to mention all the clean laundry that had suddenly and magically converted itself from crumpled heaps of dirty clothing into nicely washed and folded stacks of clean clothes.
Or that I had changed and washed the sheets on the bed.
Or put away the 60 billion towels that he uses when he insists on showering two, sometimes three times A DAY.
(Okay, I admit that the towel thing may have had him smoking like a chimney as he entered the bathroom for his second shower, but I swear there were no actual flames yet).
As I recall, the flames may have come when I asked him how his day was and he forgot to return the favor by asking me about mine.
And he was certainly ablaze when he didn't notice that I had run all the errands, done the grocery shopping, ordered more flea medication for the cats and written a thank you note to his mother for some outfits she had sent for our daughter.
(Does he think this stuff happens on its own? Magical fairies with to-do lists live in the basement?)
But ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may be saying to yourself, "So he neglected to notice all the hard work his wife had done. And all he's really guilty of is taking off his shoes, having a glass of water and taking a shower at the end of a long day. Is that really so bad? Did he deserve to burst into flames over that?" And I say to you, no. No, he did not. But none of that was why I barbecued him.
Sadly, it was when the phone was ringing, the cat was throwing up on my clean carpet and the baby had a dirty diaper that he made his fatal mistake. I handed him his screaming child with the simple request to change her diaper and he said...
"Jeez honey, isn't it your turn to do this? I had to work today".
And that, honored members of the jury, is when the laser beams shot out of my eyes and turned him into instant charcoal right there where he stood.
I knew you'd understand.
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The Little Miss and I try to take a walk in the neighborhood park a couple of times a week. (Well, I walk...she mostly naps in plush comfort with her sun shade and stroller fan. Such is the life of a baby). 
