i am not trying to poison my husband

$500,000 is not a lot of money. It's nothing to sneeze at, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't kick it out of bed for eating crackers. But it's not even enough to get a game show on the air any more. And it isn't enough money to kill my husband.

Okay, that came out wrong. What I'm trying to say is I'm not trying to poison my husband.

Erik has long been suspicious of my homicidal tendencies. It all started 14 years ago when I picked up a rock on my way to his campsite; I wasn't altogether certain I would find him alone. After peering through the window of his tent, I saw his solo sleeping face and promptly dropped the rock - a sound which has been amplified through the years in his memory. I wish we had kept the rock for sentimental reasons - we speak of it so often. In his version it is the size of a bowling ball, certain to bring death. I know it was relatively small (I could palm it), and at most it would have brought pain. What it has brought is an uneasy understanding in our relationship - it is in Erik's best interest to avoid infidelity and/or the appearance of infidelity.

It doesn't help that I'm fond of those shows. You know, the ones you find on Oxygen or A&E - the ones that sensationalize crimes of passion. They're basically just tutorials for how not to commit a murder. I enjoy them for the mellow narrative - I call them my napping shows. I fall asleep, someone dies. I wake up, someone's in jail. Erik's convinced I'm studying up on how to cash in on his life insurance.

But as I said, half a million dollars isn't a lot of money. Even if his policy were worth ten times that, Erik is worth more to me alive than dead. There is no other man on this planet that could ever care for me the way he does. I'm sure it is some kind of insanity - this affection he has for me. I don't know what he sees when he looks at me, but whatever it is it makes him smile. He's my safe place, my super hero. He's my very best friend. I can't imagine my world without him. You can't put a price on that.

But in his world the rock was a bowling ball and my napping shows are instruction videos and so he lives, just a little bit, in fear. He pays attention to details, looking for clues that I may be becoming unglued. So when he discovered his ice cream was sliced open on the side he said nothing. When he noticed the next batch was cut the same way he asked me, politely, if I was trying to poison him.

Of course I am not. I bought both packages at the same, not so busy store. I assume they were sliced open at the same time by the same overzealous stock boy. I didn't even notice the imperfection. But I don't live in fear.

Besides, poison is a highly unreliable, extremely traceable method for murder. And staging a product tampering is even more difficult - just ask Stella Nickell who initally got away with poisoning her husband when the coroner failed to detect the cyanide in his system. She tried to lead detectives to the poison in his Excederin (so she could cash in on the extenuating circumstances clause of her husband's $176,000 policy), but they dismissed her. She had to go and kill someone else to get them to reopen his case. Unfortunately for her, they solved both cases.

Sadly, Erik didn't find my explanation terribly reassuring. Maybe I do watch too many of those shows.