My Wife Drugged Me


As I was wiping down countertops, loading the dishwasher, and restoring our home to its rightful order a single though occurred to me: My wife drugged me.

Do I have your attention? Are you confused? Well, you should be and now you won’t be because I’ll explain it to you. It all began with a single act of kindness in the wee hours of this morning. I awoke once to my wife, Stephanie, creeping out of the bed so she could take our 7-year-old, Montana, to school and again when she returned coaxing me with food and drink. A simple shush of a finger to her lips indicated that I needed to enter stealth mode as I exited the bed in order not to wake our 3-month-old, Echo.

Moments later, I was downstairs enjoying a steak biscuit and coffee with my wife and two-year-old, Phoenix, at the dining room table. I was tired, but overall in a decent mood since having been greeted by food and my daughters early morning smiles and laughter. Stephanie began to discuss her battle plans for the day. We had a laundry list (I believe there was actual laundry to do) of things to do so she ran me through it.

It was nothing out of the ordinary for a family of 5.2: dishes, laundry, sweep, mop, pick up clutter, etc. I was okay with that. We finished breakfast when Echo awoke. Stephanie retrieved her and brought her to me because she could see that Phoenix was still tired and needed a short nap. I assumed good intentions and let Stephanie take Phoenix upstairs. What’s the harm, right? She’ll be back down shortly, Echo will be asleep (I have a knack for putting her to sleep), and then we can clean.

An hour later Echo is not asleep and crying for life-giving booby milk. I proceed to take her upstairs where I find Phoenix and Stephanie asleep. Awwww! Cute, right? Right! I hand Echo over to mommy and proceed downstairs to begin my chores.

That brings us to the lightbulb moment that happened moments ago. As I was scrubbing down a countertop I realized that an incredibly complex plan had unfolded without my knowing, and it all began with one cup of coffee. That’s right. My wife drugged me with that wake-me-up drug, caffeine, most Americans crave because, I believe, she knew once it was in my system I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Diabolical? I think so. Smart? Yes.

Touche, wife. Never again…


Author: Troy Martin

Freelance writer, blogger, lover of Lovecraft, and dark sci-fi/fantasy enthusiast brings an inkwell of fresh blood, tears, and vengeance to the genre.

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