Dear Next Man I Marry,
I’m writing this with the utmost confidence that I will meet you one day, fall in love then marry you. For that reason alone I should be given credit as I’m a bit cynical when it comes to happily ever after.
The purpose of this letter is to address your most important job as the one and only man in my life: killing bugs.
You probably know by now that I hate bugs. I’m sure it’s come up a time or two when you’ve had to listen to me scream like a banshee after seeing some disgusting, creepy-crawly nuisance. I imagine at first you were quite startled that a grown and semi-adult woman would freak out at something she is obviously larger than and could easily squish with a shoe. I apologize if I scared you with my irrational behavior. Understand that I understand my reaction to these little bastards is irrational. Also understand I do not care.
I HATE BUGS. I hate them so much that I’m considering adding this deal in our marriage vows. I figure if you swear and say I do in front of a judge or preacher than you HAVE to do this.
So I beg you…PLEASE KILL THE BUGS. ALL of the bugs. Do not try to rescue them and get them safely outside. I want the little assholes to die. I’ll probably need to see the corpse for proof it is actually dead. I’m fond of the idea of firearms or actual fire but you’re the man so I’ll let you choose the weapon.
In exchange for this, I promise to be the best wife I can be.
Sincerely and loving you in advance,