My wife and I always have one fight when on a vacation, never about anything of substance, always stupid. We know we’re going to have one. We talk about it. Still happens. I think the best(?) one was when we were walking down a street in Boston and there was a store I thought looked cool and wanted to check out, and she did not think looked cool and did not want to check out. Clearly a crisis, we bitched at each other for a good five minutes right there on the sidewalk. Seemed important at the time.
A couple weeks ago, she got pissed at me because I didn’t come running to her aid when she was changing kid B’s diaper and things got messy. I was in the basement on the opposite side of the house from her. She was upstairs in his room, claims she shouted for me twice from his room, and a third time down the laundry chute (Why?) which is a lunchbox sized opening upstairs that leads to the laundry room downstairs which is still three rooms and several walls and doors away from where I was. She got even more pissed when I calmly pointed out that no reasonable person would have expected anyone to hear any of this, and that calling for me through the laundry chute was not the keenest of ideas. Then she got extra mad because she saw the baby monitor downstairs and I would have heard had it been turned on, which is undeniably true, but her argument faltered when I pointed out there was no reason for it to be on, I did not turn it off, and it had been off for weeks. Undeterred, she then turned it into a fight about how I told her she was an idiot (Which I so did not do!) for calling down the laundry chute. This went on for several more minutes, until she declared that the fight was stupid, and then everything was fine.
THE BEST though, was the day we were bickering about I Don’t Even Know What, and she figured it was a fine time escalate things and accuse me of slamming a door. Affronted, I decided the best course of action was to demonstrate slamming vs not slamming the door, several times. Yep. I did that.
I once commented on a picture on facebook with “beautiful picture”.
My lady yelled at me that I call her beautiful and it was improper for me to comment that since another woman was in the picture. I pointed out that I did not call the other woman beautiful, merely the picture (which contained a woman and her child artistically posed). It still became a full argument.
The resolution was that I am not allowed to use the word beautiful except when referring to her. Which is bizarre because she has never been the jealous or diva type before or since.
The night before my then boyfriend and I were going to fly to California for my 30th birthday / his introduction to my family, we had a massive fight as we were packing because I refused to smell his shirt. That was only a surface reason - our relationship was a bad joke and we eventually broke up, unfortunately after far too long - but we took it *seriously *at the time. I can still remember him trying to shove the armpit of his t-shirt in my face and I reacted like he was trying to chloroform me.
My most recent ex and I had many stupid arguments but the dumbest - and it still makes me mad:p - is when I found a giant roach in the kitchen and I screamed but he continued to sit on his ass in the living room. Again, just a symptom of a larger issue but I was feckin’ pissed.
Me: The fuck is wrong with you?!!! I’m screaming my as off and you’re in here, sitting on yours!
Him: I didn’t hear you!
Me: Bullshit. As usual, you coudln’t get up off your lazy ass. Etc, etc. . .
And one of the main reason is why she is my EX (not so much that she pulled this shit but that she constantly did it and expected me to go “yes dear” when she did).
We were getting ready for a camping trip. While I was outside sweating my ass off loading shit into the car she had the difficult task of making us both sandwiches for the day.
Eventually I come back inside to load up our individual day coolers. I kinda look at one ham sandwich. Just ham and bread. Nope, not mine. Look at the other ham sandwich. Also just ham and bread. Now this is an important point. For all practical purposes EVERY fucking god damn hot dog, hamburger and sandwich I have ever eaten has had two things on it…onion and mustard…for that matter I have often joked that such foods are just onion and mustard delivery vehicles…
Anyway, back to the story. After figuring out BOTH sandwiches have neither onion OR mustard I dig out the mustard and an onion to put on the sandwich. Despite the fact I SHOULD be pissed about this, because this is probably like the thousandth time she has made me a sandwich and by now should know that this is how I want my sandwich, I am not pissed…I’m just fixing the sandwich.
So, here I am getting a slice of onion and a dollop of mustard. She sees me doing this and flips right the fuck out. Something like “hey cunt, why didn’t you fix my sandwich right bitch?” flipping out.
All because I had the audacity the try to make my sandwich the way I have always liked it.
Did you know that, when putting the pillows on the bed, the open ends of the pillowcase are apparently supposed to face the edge of the bed, and not the inside?
Neither did I. But 20 years later, I can still remember the argument.
The last argument that my ex-wife and I had, at least while we were living together, was about the laundry. The outlet pipe was clogged and would over flow if the washer was used on the “full” setting. It was the weekend and I said we can call a plumber on Monday so it would be cheaper. There was no problem if we washed stuff on “medium”, but she insisted that we had to do laundry. We argued over using the medium and full setting.
It was a full on screaming match, over the washing machine. In the end she insisted we call someone, to the tune of $400+.
Not an actual serious squabble, just something Husband and I do for fun…
So he was talking one day about somethingoranother, and used the phrase “the esophagus, which we all know is a tube…” And I decided to be Contrary, so I interrupted with “The Hell You Say!!!”
Ever since then, any time someone mentions the esophagus, it will set off a good couple minutes of us bickering about whether or not it is a tube. I am still being Contrary. It’s fun.
Coming home from Vegas in my 1964 VW ( this was 1971) I bounced up and down in the drivers seat and asked her if she could feel it. She said yes, the car bounces when you do it. I said you bounce so I can feel it and she refused, after about 10 min of trying to talk her into it I kind of exploded and cussed her out. Funny thing is that for me to loose my temper is extremely rare, I still can’t figure out why it made me so mad.
Whether or not we should put a kitchen island in our home we’re remodeling together. I thought we should, and tear out the wall separating the kitchen from the living room to make it flow better. He thought that even with an island, there wouldn’t be enough counter space. I got huffy because he kept interrupting me, and he got mad that I was getting mad. I accused him of being condescending and he accused me of being too sensitive. It escalated into a full-on screaming match.
We never fight - we’ve fought 3 times in the past 8 months. And every time it has been over something completely stupid.
The stupidest fight we ever had was over the fucking mats in my car. I got a new car three years ago and he had promised me those custom mats. I don’t even remember what the argument was about, but he hadn’t ordered them yet, and we got in a big huge sniping fight that ended with me in tears and he pissed off. A little later I was like…I’m so sorry, that was the stupidest thing ever to fight over. He agreed. I now have my car mats.
I was once a complete and utter bastard. I cut the carrots the wrong way while making dinner. My wife was having a crappy day, so I gave her a glass of wine while I made dinner.
Then I ruined it. By cutting the carrots on a slant. On purpose, according to her.
For a while there, I was a complete an callous utter bastard like this about once ever 28 days like clockwork. She even suggested I see someone about this.
The day he insisted that the Google Fiber installation trucks I had just driven past down the street could not have possibly been Google Fiber installation trucks because he didn’t believe it was finally time for our install because Mr. Know-it-all hadn’t heard that they were ready to do the installs yet. There were 5 of them, all sporting Google logos with about a dozen workers digging holes and placing junction boxes in them. It was bizarre.
My ex-husband and I had only been married a year and it was my birthday (January 5th 1990). I was being a big spoiled baby about wanting a golden retriever puppy. A friends dog had puppies recently, and I talked about it for weeks before my birthday, and told him it was the only thing I wanted. So, when the day came and there was no puppy I turned into a raving banshee. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a dog, it’s that we couldn’t afford it. We were just starting out and the puppy was a couple hundred dollars. After a huge fight, I laid down on the bed and was crying.
He stormed out of the house and returned about a half hour later. I heard the bedroom door open, and then I felt something walking on the bed. There was my puppy! We named him Friday and he was the best dog in the world for the next 12 years. In fact, the very first thread I created here was about him, right after he died.
I am still ashamed of the way I acted that day. I was a true selfish bitch.
