I like to dabble in plants and herbs. I am in no way “all-natural” — I am alive thanks to modern medicine, thank you very much — but I like to have a little extra defense against the common cold, stomachaches, or stress.

My husband sometimes proudly refers to me as his “beloved herb-witch”. He also sometimes speaks in his sleep. One night, I poke him to stop him from snoring, and he sits upright.

Husband: “I need you to promise me something, honey.”

Me: “What is it, love?”

Husband: “If you ever decide to kill me, do not use death cap mushrooms. Too slow and painful. That stuff scares me to no end.”

Me: “No worries, silly. I will lace your tea with oleander. You will flick off like a candle.”

Husband: “I love you so much.”

And he goes back to sleep.

In the morning, we are having breakfast.

Me: “You won’t believe what you asked me for last night.”

Husband: “You mean the death cap mushroom thing?”

Me: “Wait. You remember?”

Husband: “Sure. Oleander is a great idea, love.”

Me: “You mean you were serious?!”

Husband: “Sweetie, I will drink anything you pour for me, and I am not interested in life if you do not love me anymore. Just please spare me from death cap mushrooms. Thank you for your promise.”

You’re welcome, my beloved… I guess?