Monday, January 13, 2014

Why I Almost Killed My Husband Two Days After Our Wedding

Pic taken by Sean in Mexico, two weeks ago

It was December 17th. On the next day we were traveling to Cartagena, the city where we were going for our wedding on December 21st. Naturally, there was a mountain of jobs to be done before leaving for the next three weeks, so I gave Sean some jobs to do and I took on some too. On his list were things such as "Finish wrapping the Christmas presents", "Grab our passports", and "Buy snacks for the trip". We finally managed to get everything done (or so I thought) and the next day a van picked us and Sean's family up and drove us to Cartagena.

We spent the next four days busy with last-minute details, throwing up on boats in front of the in-laws (whole other story!) and then finally getting married. On December 23rd, after those blissful days, it was time to fly to Medellin to spend Christmas there. Tommy, Sean, Sean's family (mum, stepdad, brother and sister) and me went to the airport to catch our flight. We all handed our ID's at the counter and for some unknown reason, Sean decided he wanted to give them his passport, so he reached into our suitcase to find it. After a few moments, I see Sean give me his signature "You-are-not-going-to- like-this-so-I-better-say-it-fast-and-pretend-to-be-angrier-than-you" look. I feared the worst, but it turned out to be worse than that: he didn't have his passport! He didn't need it for that particular flight, but he did need it for the honeymoon, which we were leaving for three days later!

But wait a minute... "how can you not have your passport? it was on your list of jobs to do, you told me you had packed them... I asked if you had double checked and you told me (very annoyed) that you had...? are you sure?" When it hit me that yes, he was sure, my blood had never boiled so quickly. My brain immediately became busy with ways to kill him painfully and slowly: "I don't care if 'till death do us part' means two goddamn days!" was pretty much my frame of mind at the time.

Thankfully for him (and me! in the end, I do love the man) his mom was there, and I am pretty sure she was the reason I didn't go through with my plans: I don't think she would like me as much after murdering her son, right? Knowing her son's life depended on her, she tried to calm me down: "We better focus on ways to solve this, dear". I believe that little sentence right there is the reason my hubby is alive with me today: I actually did come up with a good plan five minutes later, which involved a housekeeper, a four hour trip by bus and overnight mailing. The passport finally arrived in Medellin the day before we were to leave on our honeymoon, much to our relief, and we did have a great trip, where I did not feel any urge to murder him again.

The best part? Sean is never again allowed to complain when I ask "are you suuuuure" for the twentieth time! woohoo!

Note: I was just kidding about actually "killing" him, obviously! ... Sort of.

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