Not My Husband In My Bed

Summary

After eight years of marriage, my husband was still as much of a child as the day I met him.

He had this exhausting habit of playing pranks—stupid, harmless things involving jump-scares or gag gifts. Every few weeks, he’d bring home some new trick to "lighten the mood." I’d usually just laugh, roll my eyes, and toss the latest plastic spider or fake snake into the storage room under the stairs. I didn’t think much of it.

A few days ago, while I was deep-cleaning the house, I came across his latest box. I decided it was time to finally clear out the clutter and throw it away.