Highly Suspect

I think my husband is trying something. Either he wants to kill me or make me kill him.
Example: I'll admit I have a few pet peeves. One of them is food and/or trash in the sink. I have mentioned this before. Lately, more than usual, I am finding food and garbage - not in the side with the disposal. Nope, the other side. Yes, the one 2 feet from the garbage can. I know, this is a little thing, but it pushes a button nonetheless. I feel intentionally provoked.
Also, I hate to be late. That's not to say I never am, but it bothers me. And it makes me anxious to know Ryan is late to work. If I know he's running late, I push him out the door. If I'm pushing, he slows down, decides to make pancakes, changes shoes at the last minute, does some yoga, makes some hot chocolate to go (and usually leaves it behind), etc. . . . You get the point here I'm guessing. It's like he takes some sick pleasure in my anxiety. Oh, and lest I forget. There is some weird mechanism in the man's head that will not allow him to sleep past 5 on a Saturday morning. He pops right out of bed and commences being loud all over the place. By the time I'm alive he's ready to go conquer the world (read: spend all our money at some store). But on a weekday or a Sunday, when we have a place to be and a time to be there, he could sleep all day. Alarm clocks be damned.
No, I know, these are small things. Nothing to kill over. But add a couple of these little things up when you are 100 weeks pregnant, a little tired and irritable, suffering from lack of sleep and a 1/2 oz bladder, and see how you feel about them.
But, I'm a big girl (no comments from the peanut gallery, folks!), and I've kept any homicidal thoughts at bay. So far. But I also think he may be trying to kill me. Seriously, Ryan has never been one to leave the toilet seat up. Probably because he has 6 sisters, and they trained him. (Thanks!) However, he has recently taken to leaving the seat up. But only at night. So that when his clumsy, half-asleep wife has to get up and pee in the night, she just may lose her balance and fall. I can see all kinds of concussions occurring in there. It's just an extra half inch or so down, but it's enough to cause me to lose my already somewhat precarious balance.
So, to Ryan, here's my message: If you're looking for an escape hatch, noone has to get hurt. You need not provoke me or cause me injury by night. I'm sure my parents would love to have their always charming and clever grown daughter back at home with her three (!) small children and no job. I can't imagine anything more fun than chillin' with Gramps all day long back in 'Bama. Just put the toilet seat down already! And cut it out with the sink trash. Seriously.
XO