One of my pet peeves is running out of tall kitchen can bags. The 24 count goes too fast and they’re more expensive in the small package. AND THE LARGE BOX FITS PERFECTLY IN THE ALLOTTED SPACE (yeah, I won the argument, but without fanfare).
Hey! We have this fight all the time! Except ours is with good, sturdy delivery-type boxes from parts or other products that are delivered. There’s a pile of them growing legs on the deck. He’s going to use them for “something.” THEN GET THEM OFF THE DECK!!
Ex wife: “You never call me Cynthia! You always call me Cindy!” Me: “When we first met you introduced yourself to me as Cindy.” Her: “So? Not once have you ever used my real name! Why?” Me: “Well, my real name is Peter and you always call me Pete, isn’t that kind of the same thing?” Her: (Changing the subject)
I think the real reason for the fight was because it bothered her that I went out to get the paper on the driveway barefoot or something. Lovely marriage let me tell you.
Jeez…if either of us used each other’s given name, you can be sure divorce is just on the horizon.
Yeah, this is a recurring argument, but that Christmas was the only time it dissolved into an all-out, yelling, box-throwing fight.
My wife and I get into this all the time, though it’s not always body language, it’s my tone of voice. You’d think that after five years she’d know I’m not mad when I say I am, she still thinks I am sometimes.
Ahhhhh, the best part is when someone keeps insisting that you are mad or asking you if you are mad until you actually BECOME mad…arghhh
I have this problem with 'im indoors all the time - there are loads of delivery boxes (many from Amazon, so not very large boxes) in our spare room downstairs. They’re apparently going to be used for “something” but I’ve got no idea what that might be or when it might happen.
The stupidest fight we had was over a box. In fact it wasn’t actually a fight. He sulked instead, for at least a week. He’d bought two large captain’s chairs, one for his computer room and one for my study, and had asked me to keep the box his chair came in because he was going to use it to store a load of videos in. Later that day he saw me disposing of a large box and managed to get all pissy about it. He glared at me for a while, didn’t speak and just acted like he didn’t want to be around me. I’d ask him what was wrong, he’d say “nothing”, you know how it works…eventually I just gave up bothering and stopped trying to find out what was bugging him.
Eventually he caved in (he should know that I can out-sulk him) and said that he was hacked off because he’d asked me to keep the box and I’d thrown it in the recycling bin…at which point I pulled him into the study and pointed to the large empty box I’d cunningly placed on top of the multi-gym so it would be out of the way. All that sulking, if he’d bothered to ask where the box was I’d have told him. He never apologised, either.
Four years later, the box was still on top of the multi-gym. Eventually my friend and I put flooring in the attic and took that box up there, filled it with videos and sealed it up. So much for him doing that job.
I may be able to think of stupider stuff, given time, but the one that occurs to me happened when we were newly married and I had just moved in, bringing my two male cats. I got pretty annoyed with him one day when he was letting the cats out and said something sarcastic like, “Let’s go, girls!” He’s not a cat person, and back then, he really wasn’t adjusting well to being a cat owner. (They’ve since made a lot of progress in winning him over). I’m not usually a difficult feminist and he’s not usually a chauvinist pig, but I decided to go to the mat over using the word “girls” to insult my kitties.
Another time, we stopped speaking to each other for a while after a tiff over whether to buy sweetened or unsweetened applesauce.
I received no acknowledgement about my superior knowledge of the size of the trash bag box, either. That’s ok…I just shake each bag a little louder and harder when I change it. And I always make sure he’s in the room when I do it. 
I’ll do this 78 times … mmwwwaahahahahaha!!!
The dumbest fight I’ve ever had with anyone, before or since. Stupidity here.
A few weeks ago, I had a stupid fight with the SO which came about because of communication styles. People in his family tend to get quiet when they’re angry, extending to variations like the charming silent treatment. People in my family tend to get quiet when they’re out of things to say. It’s not unusual for me and my parents to be in a room together for a long time without speaking to each other when we are not angry at each other for any reason. (when we’re angry, let’s just say it’s audible) The SO and I got into a ridiculous fight because once on a car trip, I was out of things to blather about and consequently clammed up. (and it wasn’t that I just shut up in the middle of a conversation or anything) He thought I was angry, and badgered me about it till I damn well was angry at him for bugging me.
We have all done that.
Nothing to compare with the awesomeness of some of y’all’s. I especially [del]recognized[/del] enjoyed the frozen banana argument of Jodi’s, and I believe buying the wrong size trash bag box is an affirmative defense for murder in some states (IANAL).
Mine was our first argument. She did the laundry, which included my undershorts. I did not fold or sort them - just grabbed them and jammed them into the drawer.
The Lovely and Talented Mrs. Shodan - “You need to fold those.”
The Foolish and Misguided Mr. Shodan - “No, they’re fine.”
TLaTMS: - “If you don’t fold them, they get all wrinkled.”
TFaMMS - “Who cares? They’re underwear. Nobody sees them.”
TLaTMS - “I’LL SEE THEM! THEY"LL BE ALL WRINKLED!”
TFaMMSD - 'Don’t be so anal-retentive."
WWIII ensues.
We’ve made it up, but she still does all the laundry.
Regards,
Shodan of the Wrinkled Undeshorts
This. I’ve been married a lot longer than 5 years and I can still get in trouble for my “tone of voice”. I know I have the TOV ™ because I’ve gotten to trouble my whole life for it but it is apparently completely random. I walk into the room and say “good morning honey” and BAM - I’m allegedly angry about something, so then she is angry and I get the silent treatment. Whaa? What just happened there?
Our latest and most stupid … She was late - again, as always. I was waiting -again, as always. So it wasn’t a huge deal, just the usual. Except this time she didn’t like the look on my face so she blows up and starts in on a rant about what could be so important that I have to get angry about it. Except that she was the one getting angry about something trivial and I hadn’t even opened my mouth! She’s not letting this one go though and we have been dancing around for a week. I think I need to permanently change my face and voice, just to be on the safe side.
An entire Saturday night party (with all my closest friends) at my house was canceled on the same day because I vacuumed up a sock, which my at-the-time spouse had left on the floor, and she was so upset by this heinous act that her ensuing meltdown left me with no other option than to call every guest, one by one, and tell them that, due to extenuating circumstances, the dinner party was being canceled.
The sock was a 45 cent, white ankle sock. It was retrieved and the vacuum cleaner was fine.
While the sock was stuck in the vacuum, I was called names that most people would reserve for the worst of the Nazi death camp designers.
There were three vacuum cleaners in my house.
When we divorced, I had four vacuum cleaners. We sold our home. We split all the property equally. When we moved out, I had to tidy up the empty home after I took my last few belongings out before the other couple did a walk through on settlement day.
My neighbor was with me for mental support, and we were stunned to discover that the b-tch had taken all four vacuum cleaners.
I ask this both as a person and a woman–why would you have bothered to tell her good morning if you were angry?
People is confusing.
Wha-wha-wha wait… Your mother accused you of cheating on her? 
Once I was caught staring at the butt of a woman in front of me. However, this was a weird overweight mishapen butt squished into horrid gold-velvet leopard print pants, muffin-top rolls squishing out the top, that the woman could barely take 2" steps in, creating a morbidly amusing spectacle.
My wife thought I was staring due to sexual attraction, and it sparked a fight. I couldn’t for the life of me convince her that I was soooooo not attracted to that, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away in a “train wreck” fascination.
I just realized this describes my wife (and family) and me perfectly. I’m going to have to point this out to her next time (especially before a car trip ) My family is the “quiet when we’re content” family. Hers is the “quiet when we’re angry and sulking” family.
My other plan was to prepare a fund of stupid jokes so inane that he would hope that I returned to my former quietness.