by Brianna Popsickle

Created on: May 30, 2009

My husband thinks I'm trying to kill him and I assure you I'm not. We've been married twenty-four years; if I were going to kill him I would have done it by now.

So where does he get this crazy idea? Well in fairness to him, there have been a few 'food' incidents.

First, you should know my husband had a bad experience with liver as a child. His dad wouldn't let him go to the movies unless he finished his dinner. He found liver disgusting, so in order to eat it, he cut it into small pieces and swallowed it like pills with milk. He cleaned his plate but became so ill he missed the movie anyway. To this day, he can't eat liver, he can't watch someone else eat liver, and the mere mention of it makes him gag.

Soon after we were married, we were attending an awards dinner when a tray of appetizers was passed around. My husband chose carefully to avoid the liver pate. I on the other hand, loaded up. I love the stuff! When he went to use the washroom I couldn't resist switching plates. The older woman next to me looked at me suspiciously. I explained I was switching plates, so he could try some of mine.

He returned to the table and without looking reached for an appetizer and shoved the whole thing into his mouth. He began to chew. His eyes met mine. I smiled at him. His face went red, his eyes began to water and then it happened; the dreaded gag reflex.

I couldn't contain my laughter. He got up and ran to the washroom. Wiping the tears from my eyes I turned to smile at the lady next to me, but surprisingly she wasn't laughing. It turned out she had no sense of humour at all. (Really, what is it with some people?)

Then there was the time my husband had been sick. His mother suggested he take cod liver oil but he wouldn't hear of it. Concerned as I was about his health, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I slipped cod liver oil into his orange juice. I happened to mention it to our kids, so at breakfast, all eyes were on him. He reached for the glass and took a big gulp. We watched and waited. I really did feel bad about it afterwards.

Probably the worst example though, of my 'having tried to kill him' was the Pepto-Bismol incident. He was on the couch with an upset stomach late one night. We didn't have anything he could take for it but our eighty-year-old neighbour was happy to lend us her Pepto-Bismol.

I read the dosage, shook the bottle, poured it onto a spoon and shoved it in his mouth. His eyes grew big and before he could say anything

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