Please condense without losing any of the humor:  Dearest Mum,

I hope this email finds you in good spirits, not scandalized by my recent contact. I wanted to apologize for bawling in front of you the other day about my wife's recent behavior. I know, I should grin and bear it, but it was all rather overwhelming, like watching NSW losing again in the State Of Origin. But I know, I know, it's NOT her fault. It's the cursed HORMONES. They've turned my sweet wife into a MONSTER, and I'm the poor fool caught in its jaws, like a mouse in a trap.

As you might have guessed, she has been as emotional as a teenager on prom night, as irrational as a politician, as bad-tempered as a hungry wombat, as impatient as a toddler on a sugar high, and swearing like a sailor on shore leave. It's been quite the experience, to say the least. I dare say Mum, it's like trying to pet a Mountain Lion with its balls in a bear trap. One minute she's as peaceful as a mouse, and the next she's ready to cleave my head off. And just when I think she's about to doze off, and it's safe to tip-toe out of the shitter, she transforms into a raging inferno, ready to burn down the house without the slightest provocation. It's enough to drive a man to drink, and I'm not talking about a nice cup of tea. Honestly Mum, it has been a sight to behold, a true spectacle. I'm surprised we haven't all been struck by lightning yet. If it weren't for my marriage vows, I would have already found refuge in a monastery and taken a vow of silence, except for the occasional "Father, I knew I shouldn't have had that last seaweed cracker."

I know what you're thinking, "But NAME_1, menopause is a BLESSING in disguise! It's the end of a woman's reproductive years and the beginning of a new and exciting chapter in her life." And you would be right, if it weren't for the little side effect of her turning into a raging LUNATIC. I've tried to be patient and understanding, but it's been a struggle, let me tell you. I've called her "Precious", "Darling", or "Stalin" to try and snap her out of it, but alas, it has not been effective. She has been MOST disagreeable.

So, Mum, I APOLOGIZE for causing YOU any worry or undue burden with my uncontrollable sobbing. You are a kind and loving mother, and I know you will find it in your heart to understand my situation. And I promise to do better in the future, and to keep my COMPOSURE despite the adversity. I assure you it is only temporary, the doctor says no more than seven more years of this living Hell. But I'll persevere, and we'll 