As you have already seen if you follow me on Twitter, Paul and I had a huge fight about whether .333… = 1/3. (Why WOULDN’T you follow me on Twitter, when it can keep you UP TO THE MINUTE on such things?) This was a fight in which my concluding argument was to break a laundry basket.
I just…you know? You live for 16 years with another person and there are certain arguments that turn it up to eleven just like THAT. For some couples it’s money, or unwise extramarital flirting, or what kind of Christmas tree is “right.” Until now, I thought the only such fight topic Paul and I had was the Monty Hall problem. We CANNOT DISCUSS IT.
But what I hadn’t realized is that the Monty Hall problem was only an EXAMPLE of the real, ROOT issue in our marriage, which is “Theoretical Math” vs. “Actual Reality.” And when he tried to apply Theoretical Math to Actual Reality in the .333… vs. 1/3 thing, and then stood there asking calmly if I wanted him to show me the references that backed him up…well, that’s when it was clear to me that the only form of self-expression that would accurately represent my reply to that question was to smash something UP.
We can talk ALL DAY LONG about how IN A MATH PROBLEM you sometimes have to use .333… to represent 1/3rd, and that it’s the closest decimal equivalent of 1/3rd, and I will AGREE with that all throughout that same long day—just as I will agree that, with rounding, .345 is 35%. But if you say it IS THE SAME—well, we are going to lose a laundry basket in this argument.
May I demonstrate briefly? First, remember that putting “…” after a number means “into infinity”—and so, “.333…” is a short and convenient way to express a decimal point followed by a line of 3s that goes on FOREVER. And now, my point: .333… plus .333… plus .333… is .999… . Whereas 1/3 plus 1/3 plus 1/3 is 1. DIFFERENT. As Shriekhouse said, “.333… is infinite. 1/3 is finite. That’s about as big a difference as you can get!” Exactly. For the problem in question, we were finding out information about a group of 12 having lunch, and 4 had tuna sandwiches. Is 1/3 (4 people) the SAME as .333… (3.999… people)? No. Close? Yes. Close enough for many math problems? Yes. SAME? NOT UNLESS WE CARVE A LITTLE SLICE OFF THAT FOURTH PERSON.
For another demonstration, imagine this problem on a math test, and two students answering the question in these two ways:
Which student is THEORETICALLY right (and about to get a note from the teacher to stop smartypantsing around and just give the right answer), and which student is ACTUALLY right?
Not following this? NO MATTER. The takeaway here is that SWISTLE IS RIGHT AND PAUL IS WRONG. And that if Math agrees with Paul, then MATH IS ALSO WRONG, and you may think I am kidding but I AM NOT. Giving “being backed into a theoretical corner” precedence over “reality” is “ridiculous,” and I don’t really care if a whole bunch of Smarty McSmartypants say it isn’t. EINSTEIN HIMSELF could arrive at my house bearing “references,” and I would break a laundry basket for HIM, too. I will DIE ON THIS HILL, even if ALL OF MATH wants to fight on the other side of the battle.
Antiangie wondered “Do you ever wonder if people who aren’t married to scientist/engineer/computer types have this type of ‘discussion’?” Which brings up an interesting conversation topic.
My last boyfriend (aka my first husband) and I had our two hugest recurring fights over (1) applied pacifism and (2) thank-you notes. As in, those were the fights horrible and passionate enough that they could have ended our relationship. And my high school boyfriend and I had near-relationship-ending fights over (1) how he spoke to his co-workers at the fast-food restaurant where he was a shift manager and (2) the logical likelihood of get-rich-quick schemes working.
I do hope you will tell me the seemingly-silly-to-an-outsider NUCLEAR HOT BUTTON issues in your current/past relationships (it doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship, because family relationships can be JUST AS KRAZY), while I find all the shards of that laundry basket (those suckers SCATTER, man).
Ours are not very fun (most of our fights involve one of us perceiving the other as NOT LISTENING or possibly NOT TAKING SERIOUSLY) but I will be back to see what your other readers have to say. Because seriously, this might be the entertainment I have been looking for all day.
Our worst, sobbingest, yellingest, most awful fight of all … was about whether or not Puff the Magic Dragon is imaginary.
Oh yes.
There was a context, including infertility, having just visited the first newborn baby of our circle, and lack of dinner, but we fought about whether or not Puff the Magic Dragon is imaginary.
A high school boyfriend and I had serious disagreements about whether omissions of truth were different than lying when the omissions would definitely have made me angry. He didn’t LIE to me about it….just failed to mention it. Wow. 20+ yrs later and that still makes me mad. (my word verification is psessed – yes I am still psessed about it.)
Six Impossible Things- I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.
So apparently we are married to the same type of person, because earlier today while my husband was working and I was taking care of the kids, he decided he needed to explain to me what he was doing. As in, show me the ridiculously complicated formula he was using (I don’t even have the math vocabulary to explain the formula. I was an English major). He kept trying to explain what each part meant, and I kept begging him to accept that I couldn’t understand anything he was saying, and that the baby was hitting me in the face and shrieking and that the other two kids were fighting and that I should deal with that. He got his feelings hurt. ???????????????????????????????
This cracks me up because I was just talking the other day about fights with married people and how INSANE they can seem to others.
I got furiously angry the other day because my husband told me not to pull out in front of a car. Like I would. Like, I have no idea how to drive a car, I’ve only been doing it for years and years, like I would put my children’s lives at stake just to pull out for the fun of it . . . oh, I got so mad, then he got mad for me getting mad, and so forth.
Oh! And this past weekend my brother-in-law and sister-in-law got really into it over whether or not the sand at Panama City Beach is shipped in from somewhere else. It turned into a big discussion/argument between everyone. SAND. Divided our family. True story.
I literally slammed the bedroom door and cried myself to sleep because my husband forgot to pick up non-dairy creamer for me and I had to go get it MYSELF! Because he was so INCONSIDERATE to forget! (Meanwhile he was cooking me dinner throughout this whole fight that I REFUSED to eat.) So, yeah. I get it.
too funny. yes. we have had these kinds of fights. too many. ;o)
Me and Noah?? 1) Whose cookies are better, my dad’s or his mom’s, and 2) How much sheet dangling over each side of the bed constitutes “even.” He would have me sleeping like a convict on a COT if I did’t FIGHT FOR MY RIGHTS.
We have two ridiculous reoccuring arguments: 1)is there an absolute reality, or is everyone’s own perception their reality, and 2)Whether Will Smith could play Captain America.
Seriously, the Captain America thing resulted in me sleeping on the couch.
The dumbest fight my husband and I have ever had was about why a man with a masters degree couldn’t be counted on to remember to turn lights out in rooms he wasn’t currently in.
HOWEVER, he is an actuary (that is a special kind of mathematician, in case you’re not familiar) and when I asked him just now to remind me of our dumbest fight, he asked why I was asking, and when I gave him the context, we proceeded to have the exact same fight you and Paul had about 1/3 vs. 0.333 …
No laundry baskets got broken in the process, but he agrees with Paul and I agree with you. He says that it is widely accepted in math that 0.99999 to infinity is equal to 1, and I think that simply can’t be true, because … well, it just CAN’T be, because it ISN’T.
Lessee… the major source of fights in our house revolve around whether the constitution is a living document or a static one, whether ‘serves 6’ in recipes is a suggestion or a challenge and whether Miracle Whip can be substituted equally for mayo.
Sometimes for variety we’ll fight over the importance or lack there of of closet doors being closed. I have broken closet doors over this one, slamming them in a fury of self righteous indignation
Oh, and we also fight with some regularity about how my husband insists on using the words “closet” and “cupboard” interchangeably, in spite of the fact that they are not the same thing at all.
I was driving with KC a couple weeks ago and we got into a big fight about whether or not Karma exists.
I was telling him about how I had been trying to couteract some of the crappy things that have been doing on in my life by putting some extra good karma into the universe– I was being extra nice and tipping well and donating money to Greenpeace– and then I got a parking ticket and wasn’t that suckey?
And instead of laughing at my story and agreeing with me that, yes, it WAS suckey that I got that parking ticket, he was like “But, I mean, you know that’s just a load of crap, right?”
Ooooh I made me SO MAD!
It’s not so much I believe wholly and completely in Karma or whatever, it was his blanket-statement attitude that it didn’t exist and he would think I was dumb for believing in it. He says the same kind of thing about zodiac signs and horoscope stuff, too.
And I’m like YOU DON’T KNOW THE SECRETS TO THE UNIVERSE SO SHUT UP.
I can’t think of anything in particular except your garden variety “Why do you put your empty soda can on the counter instead of throwing it in the recylcing bin not TWO FEET AWAY?” type argument. But really, why can’t he??!?! Instead he just lines them up on the counter for ME to take care of. Ugh. Okay, I’m done.
While I love you…I once proved mathematically that 1+1=3. That was an awesome day. I work in a world of statistics where we say, “ehh, the mean is 4, no different than 0”.
lillowen, can I just say. . . things are only “widely accepted” when they’re not “facts.”
The things we fight about are 1) my shopping trips to Target, Walmart, and CVS. (My husband bought everything at a grocery store pre-marriage and I choose to spend a little less and also have more options for toiletry-type items. But I somehow always end up spending, like, $100 at target every time I go because I try and get other things I think I might need at some point soon so I don’t have to make another trip tomorrow. 2)We have fights when he hints at me being “insane”….like just saying, “Relax” to me in a certain tone sets me off because usually I was not NOT relaxed and he implied that I was starting to “freak out” which is another thing he sometimes says to me. “Stop freaking out” or “calm down”. I get SOOOO mad because I was NOT FREAKING OUT and I WAS CALM!!!! NOW I AM NOT!!!!!!!!! I think I am a bit touchy because I had very very very very very bad PPD with both of my kids and with my first, I had no idea what was wrong with me and neither did my husband and so I think he just started to always assume I was crazy even when I had gotten better and I HATE the idea of him labeling my as his “crazy wife”.
I dont have a husband but in my family we all fight in very specific ways: namely, everyone is QUITE SURE that they know everything about a particular topic, whether it is some medical problem or an actor or the rise of China, and we will defend our positions absolutely. Even when proven wrong.
It’s a constant delight. A family therapist would have a field day.
lillowen- I’ll give them “widely accepted,” but I’ll counter with “that’s stupid.” Especially in a math problem dealing with WHOLES, such as people.
HotchPotchery- I’d say this is a point for my side: if 1 + 1 can be mathematically proven to = 3, then math is wrong, and often.
Oh, and our first big fight, which happened before we were married, but when we first moved in together and we were unpacking, was about where to put the knife block. We we slid it back against the wall at the back of the counter, it was under the cabinets and it was not possible to pull the knives out of the block because the cabinet above was too low and in the way. My husband (BF at the time) decided we should put the knives in the middle of the counter away from the wall so that it wouldn’t be below the cabinets. I said that was ridiculous. He said there was no other way and I needed to “suck it up”. That there remark made me turn into a teenager apparently because I started crying, yelled, “I fucking HATE YOU!!!” and stomped into our bedroom and slammed the door. We eventually decided it was best to put the knives against the wall and pull them away from the wall only when we needed to use them.
Erik and I have had that same raging fight about the Monty Hall problem. I’m trying to figure out what else ramps it up to 11 around here – mostly it’s the Main Cleaner (that would be me) hiding the things that the Main Dirtier (that would be Erik) leaves lying around, and then the Main Dirtier not understanding why he then doesn’t get to hide my things. (BECAUSE I PICK THEM UP. I AM THE CLEANER.)
The most serious fight chris and I have had-resulted in not speaking, and much crying – started because I wouldn’t smell his sweaty tshirt.
My husband and I fight at least 2x a year about whether or not one of our first dates was at Macaroni Grill. He SWEARS it was and always gets worked up, recounting the incident where a waiter dropped a bottle of oil that shattered all over me.
And my counterpoint, of course, is “That was NOT ME. If I ended a date covered in olive oil, DON’T YOU THINK I’D REMEMBER?!”
We’ve been married for 10 years, by the way. And I can guarantee we will STILL have this argument even if we make it to 70 years.
Recently my husband had to go to NYC on his birthday. he usually takes his birthday off, but he couldn’t get out of it. It’s the last place he’d like to spend his birthday. So I said the kids and I would drive him up and while he was at his work event (for 5 hours in the middle of the day), we’d occupy ourselves at the museum and then we’d meet up for dinner. When I suggested that during those hours he was otherwise occupied we could meet up with one of my friends from high school, he pitched a fit. But never actually explained why us spending time with another friend when we COULD NOT spend time with him made him so upset. He barely spoke to me for 2 days because of it. And it was some symbol of everything that is wrong in our relationship.
My goddess, I love the crazy fights, especially when I’m not in the middle of one.
I’m trying to think of other good ones. An ex of mine (high school) and I fought about whether fish drown in water or air. Is drowning a function of water or wrong-element-breathing? I was on the side of water.
We got into a huge fight one time when we were dating because my husband deleted a message off his voice mail before he heard the whole message. I don’t know why it
bugged me, but it did. A lot! Also we fought right before we got married about him buying Season 6 of the Simpsons and not telling me. I know. So dumb!
Who was on what side of the thank you notes argument?
I love reading these.
My husband and I have had a couple big fights over what is a rhyme. I told him he cannot help our first grader with his rhyming homework because it will be wrong. He is very into “sorta” rhymes, like that end up in poems or songs when it is difficult to find a “perfect” rhyme.
Also, we fight about how clean our house is…but that is not a little thing…and frustrating when the cleaner isn’t clean enough for the complainer. Hermmm.
Joanne- I felt that his agreement to write the wedding-present thank-you notes to his side of the family meant WITHIN A REASONABLE AMOUNT OF TIME. My idea of reasonable: a couple of months. His idea of reasonable: EVER, even if months had gone by since the giver had written to ask if their gift had arrived, and had blamed “the bride” for not writing.
We debate about whether or not social media is useful. He thinks no one cares and Twitter and Facebook are just megaphones for stupidity…but I think they are important social tools that help us stay connected in our otherwise fragmented society.
Oh, and there is always the orderly stacking vs. haphazardly piling dirty dishes in the sink when the dishwasher is full/running. It just takes 2 seconds more and doesn’t make the kitchen look like a disaster!
Me wanting adequate life insurance to support our children in the event of my husband’s death = me planning his imminent demise. (Seriously??? For the LOVE.) Every single time we discuss life insurance it turns into a fight. Of course you don’t care if we have enough life insurance because YOU’LL BE DEAD. I am the one who will have to support three kids with a salary that is one-fifth of what you make. Omg, blood pressure rising just thinking about it.
We have what I consider adequate, now, but it was a struggle to get it taken care of.
Crap. Now Mr. P and I had the 1/3=.333 argument. I was Paul. We are on our boat so he didn’t break anything but he downed a beer and swore.
I love this post and the comments so much. I remembered my sister and I get very annoyed at each other when I was forced to pick a sense to give up I said sight. She was really aggravated that I didn’t choose smell.
Our most memorable fight was over the location of his socks. I wash and dry (and sometimes even fold and put away) everything that is in the laundry basket. If it’s not in the laundry basket, it doesn’t get washed. Simple? You would think so. Most of the time I am supposed to receive divine inspiration on whether the stuff on top of his dresser is clean or not (let’s just say the inspiration is rarely right – and I refuse to use the sniff test.).
But the best time we had this argument was when our puppy could still fit under the bed; she was stealing his socks (which were in laundry limbo – i.e. not in the laundry basket, but just on the floor) and putting them under the bed. He thought I was washing them and not putting them in his drawer, while I assumed he hadn’t deemed any socks as dirty. The only thing that saved the ‘Where are my socks? How the hell should I know?’ discussion from devolving into a knock-down drag-out I’m sleeping upstairs fight was me finding the socks under the bed and blaming the puppy (who was far too cute to be saddled with any real guilt). Oy.
Other than that, we have an on-going battle over the husband leaving less than one use of something (toothpaste, toilet paper, hand soap, etc.) rather than either using it up and throwing it away, or, I don’t know, maybe using it up and throwing it away? More than once I have been in the shower with just enough shampoo to wash about 3 hairs on my head and no other shampoo. Death threats have ensued, but the behavior hasn’t changed.
All that said, I’m trained as a statistician, too (like an earlier commenter), and with enough time, I can make number mean anything you want – it’s all in the interpretation! :-)
-Dr. Liz (not Fiona the dog, who only fights with her sister, and then it is about who has the bigger chew toy)
Rip-roaring SCREAMING FIGHT over here about … bandwagon fandom. BANDWAGON FANS. And whether it was .. oh never mind, it’s so stupid, I can’t even explain.
THERE WAS CAR DOOR SLAMMING.
Heather R’s knife block story had me unexpectedly BURST out laughing. Like, super loud. If I were in a public place i’d be The Asshole Who Is Obnoxious.
Can’t think of any fights though I KNOW we have them. Hmmm.
Enough years (19) have passed that it is safe for me to recall our first silly to the outside world fight without risking a major cardiac event. It was over whether a coupe or a sedan was the better car choice for people with children.
We did not have children together at the time. His argument for the coupe rested primarily on the fact that he had two kids and he KNEW what was best. His biggest point beyond that was that in a coupe the children did not have access to door controls and therefore could not get out while the car was in motion. I countered that sedans were much more practical for getting in and out of car seats and offered more room. Also by that time cars were equipped with driver’s side controls that could restrict the door locks and window controls for passengers.
We now have two young daughters. This week he bought his first new car in 10+ years. It’s a sedan. I am quietly savoring a sweet, sweet victory!
We have been married 23 years, and we only ever fight about three things. 1. He never uses the last of anything, just opens a new one and leaves the last one sitting around. 2. I like to get rid of clutter. He likes to hang onto every single damn thing he ever had. 3. He will not get on an airplane. He will not even talk about getting on an airplane. And he does not like being reminded that you can ride on airplanes. Which is pretty funny, because he builds them.
This is a great, great comment thread. I am laughing my head off. It’s a miracle anybody stays married.
I haven’t read all the comments yet, but I just need to say quickly, that this post exactly typifies why I think that you and I would be awesome friends IRL, if you knew me from Adam (creepy? sorry. Bear with me….) My husband and I met in undergrad in engineering. Trust me, we have had ridiculous, goes to 11 arguments about Math and Science. Many times. I will not be mentioning this post to him, just in case we do not agree about whether 0.333…. equals 1/3. I do not need that argument. We happen to agree about the Monty Hall problem, thankfully, but friends of ours have had a ridiculous, goes to 11 argument about the Monty Hall problem, in public. We stayed out of it as long as possible but then, amazingly, my DH was able to put out the fire by explaining his/my side in a more accessible and persuasive way than his like-minded counter-part in their argument.
Looking forward to reading the other comments.
I remember that our first fight, when we were engaged, was about cookies. Gooey vs. crispy cookies, to be exact. I remember very well realizing that I was actually growing, maybe unreasonably, MAD about the fact that I might not get to bake gooey cookies EVER AGAIN if I married this man. And he was mad that someone could ever PUT THEIR LIFE IN DANGER over cookies that still contained a raw factor.
Luckily, we have worked through it in the last three years. We literally met in the middle, with me agreeing to bake cookies a TAD longer than I used to and him agreeing that cookies could be chewier than just entirely crispy. Whew! But it was an ORDEAL for quite awhile…
I am on your side about the math issue. It just doesn’t add up. And you can’t meet in the middle about that one. Stink.
Hub and I fight regularly over whether there is a true definition of the word ironic and whether any situation can really be seen as irony. He says no and I say yes. Then I say our whole argument is proof of irony. And he loses his shit. So, yeah. We never fight over anything important though. I think I posted once about us fighting over cereal. I will dig that up for you.
Thank you Swistle and commenters! This post and comment thread may be the best thing I have ever read. I am saving it to my RSS forever – in case one of Swistle’s new readers goes through the archives leaves a comment 5 years from now.
My husband does not like cake and this baffles me to no end. WHO THE FUCK DOESN’T LIKE CAKE!!? I’m convinced that if we just argue about it enough or if I give him plenty of opportunities to try different types of cake, he will see the error of his ways. But nope. He still doesn’t like cake. AND I DON’T GET IT!!
Well, I am on Paul’s side, but considering I’m an engineer that shouldn’t surprise you. Also, yes it’s a little weird to think that something infinite can equal something that’s finite. I always just reconcile it with myself by remembering that the human brain can’t really comprehend infinity.
Also, do you still fight about the Montey Hall problem after reading Wikipedia’s solutions? We spent an entire day in my physical chemistry class going over the solutions. (If you’re not familiar with physical chemistry, the best description of it I’ve heard is: the worst parts of physics and the worst parts of chemistry all in one class!) My teacher was pretty much a genius but he was very good at recognizing not all of his students were:)
As for stupid fights, we don’t really have any. We’re very similar people which is probably why.
I just explained this situation to Zach and asked him what our stupidest fight was. He reminded me that JUST LAST WEEK we got into a knockdown drag-out fight with each other over how a restaurant cooked our burgers. I mean, we didn’t fight in the restaurant, exactly, though we did speak in Sharp Whispers and also maybe angrily stabbed some french fries before we got in the car and had it out.
This is…awesome. I am getting a window to the Married World into which I’ll soon enter. Currently, the thing my fiance and I have ridiculously fought about is his definition of a “jumpsuit”, which is what he calls capri-length pants, which…ladies, infuriatingly wrong, am I right? ARRRGH.
Also, the only big fight I remember my parents having is over what color blood is on the inside of your body (blue or red?). They were really mad about it. I remember thinking the fight was so funny at the time.
I am not going to bring up the 1/3 vs .333 thing with Jim because I don’t want to start an argument, and it would. :)
One of our most regular fights is about the tone in which we say things to each other. The TONE. After 9 years together. We argue about if someone is upset or just tired, about if one of us meant something rudely or not, etc. It is a weekly thing. About TONE of voice. (Wouldn’t it be easier if we both just watched how we said things?)
This is where I admit my own ridiculousness. A recurring fight we have is where the appliances/big things go in the under-the-counter-kitchen cabinet. The things are in the correct cabinet, mind you, just not arranged correctly according to me. So I drew a MAP of where items belong in the cabinet and taped it to the cabinet door. Toaster here, colander here, etc. The worst part is that at the time, my husband was doing ALL of the cooking and using of the objects in question. I do not know why, but that was my hill to die on.
Luckily, we moved and rearranged the kitchen.
And then argued about whether we had more room in the new or old kitchen. Sigh.
Oh, I LOVE that fight and these comments. Our most ridiculous fight was why my husband always wanted to drink coffee instead of tea. “There are other caffeinated beverages in the world, you know!” Not nearly as exciting as Puff the Magic Dragon, which wins as best fight ever.
I am laughing my a$$ off at all the stories! One of our “favorite” fights is regarding the pan set that we received as a shower gift. Hubby insisted that we should register for the 12 piece set while I said, “No, the 10 piece set is fine”. Now that I ruined one pan when I forgot about pacifiers I was boiling, he likes to remind me that we would still HAVE more pans if we started out with the 12 piece set. But that’s more of a 4 than an 11 argument. The arguments that get my blood boiling usually revolve around following traffic laws (use a turn signal, don’t drive in the left lane unless passing)- anything to do with driving–those are just plain ugly!
DUDE! I asked programmer, math nerd husband this question and he AGREED with you (and me) until he found out that put him against a freaking dude and then in some dumb devil’s advocate men stand together move of colassial stupidity, I heard the “well the … Stands for infinity so in math problem that would technically be right” statement! He’s lucky I didn’t kick him!
He’s also lucky I knew he was going to do that and was prepared so it didn’t turn into a giant fight.
Another one: We got into a huge fight on a public ski slope about what the correct technical something about skiing was. We were newly dating. There was yelling and tears and stomping off involved. At the time, I was just learning how to ski, and he was a ski instructor. What the heck!!! Obviously that fight was about something else entirely, but what that was has escaped me.
Anonymous. Because it is late Friday night and I just ceased fire with my husband over similar circumstances. Only we were both intoxicated. Alcohol, by the way, does NOT HELP the situation.
Although it isn’t relevant to me (yet!), the middle school dress code post? Got forwarded to several friends. Its funny because its true.
You guys, these are the best. Andrew is a bit of a conspiracy theorist (“a bit”, we don’t live in a compound or anything). While part of me admires that he doesn’t blindly accept standard beliefs as the truth, I am more of an Ockham’s razor girl myself – the simplest explanation for something is often the most likely. So while it’s POSSIBLE that aliens had something to do with the building of the pyramids and Stonehenge and so on, I find these things UNLIKELY. Yet he refuses to believe I can’t find them to be LIKELY. And that is because they are NOT likely. I end up yelling “I’M NOT SAYING IT’S IMPOSSIBLE, I’M SAYING IT’S UNLIKELY” and he’s all like “DON’T YOU THINK IT’S WEIRD THAT XYZ?’ and I say “YES. Weird. Still not LIKELY that ALIENS were involved”. He gets so mad at me but I mean, come on. This happens more often than it probably should.
In college I almost ended a relationship because we disagreed about the meaning of me asking him to double check the door on his sisters house. I felt asking him to double check the door meant “I hope the door locked since she told me it’s a tricky lock”. He felt my asking meant “I sure think he is a mental deficient and I need to check that he locked the door because he is a dummy”
he said by asking him I was checking up on him. Not the door. And he said I should have just gone up and checked the door for my self. I said
if i did that it would mean I didn’t trust his ability to lock the door OR tell me the truth about it.
We fought about this for an hour on the way home. In front of my roommate his SISTER.
I knew I HAD to come over from my reader to see the comments. This is just too good. Thank you all.
I’ve been married twice and while most of the arguments are different in the second marriage than the first, the one common denominator (besides me!) is the stress that seems to build as we’re packing the car for a trip and trying to get out the door by a certain time. Our biggest fight (in current, happy second marriage) was as we were leaving town. Heated. And in front of child, which is always a biggy with me. Stuff it down until we’re alone, and then let it rip.
Oh, SWISTLE! This topic has given me so much to say that I am going to have to force myself to hold back here so as not to leave the longest blog comment ever. [Ed. Note: I failed.]
First of all — applied pacifism! I have been known to make the mistake of announcing that I am a pacifist and this has been the single source of the MOST arguments I can remember. Say you are a pacifist and everyone wants to pull you into a fight (SIGH) with some “what if an evil killer was going to rape your grandma, wouldn’t you kill HIM?” Ai yi yi. For the record, yes I would. ANYWAY.
This also calls to mind a fight with my omnivorous brother about my vegetarian ways in which he cited his belief that PLANTS HAVE FEELINGS. I need offer no further comment on that.
But then here’s the thing: I am a super liberal, vegetarian, pacifist, yoga-practicing atheist. And my problem is that I recently seem to be going out on dates with a gun-toting, meat-eating, bowtie-wearing libertarian. I am worried and foresee MANY broken laundry baskets in my future. I mean, it’s only been a little little while and so we haven’t had the chance to REALLY argue yet, but I’m wondering if I should pre-emtively throw in the towel in anticipation of a You Don’t Share My Important VALUES kind of thing, which seems inevitable.
Sorry about the last paragraph. I haven’t discussed the matter with my friends yet and so I left it all in your comments section. D’oh.
OMG! Glad I’m not the only one with the 1/3 thing. When I got divorced, the ex pays 2/3’s medical and dental for the kids..I pay 1/3…I have had it with the .333 thing. :)
Oh, I thought of some more I had with my ex-
– Which was the fastest way from my home to my work. A drive ONLY I ever had to make!
– Whether a “filet mignon sandwich” would be easy or difficult to bite/chew through. Imagine the filet on a big bun, just…THERE. It would be hard to bite, I am certain.
– Why he always refused to wear or try on sweaters (EVER! ANY SWEATER EVER!) when I suggested it, but then he tried on, liked, and bought a sweater when a salesperson at Men’s Wearhouse casually suggested it to him.
Guf.
Will and I once had a 4 day “discussion” about stonehenge and wether it was a worship site or a sacrifice site. Thats what happens when two history nerds get together
judy
I had a friend in middle school and high school who was my arguing buddy. We would always pick opposite sides of pretty much anything and have an argument to the death. We would get all of our other classmates to choose sides. One day in middle school science we were having our weekly fight and our science teacher sperated us. And then seperated us again, and again until we were in opposite corners shouting across the classroom. And there we remained for the rest of the year.
We soon realized that teachers would either put us in opposite corners to “help foster lively discussion” or sitting next to each other so that we could have our arguments quietly without distrubing the other students.
Favorite fight: Sports vs music/drama.
This post and these comments are a balm on my soul.
I’m totally not kidding.
Oh our husbands should grab a beer and go BOWLING, with .99999…. of a ball.
I think there is something about the analytical/scientist types. Mine can be so CALM and yet so WRONG.
Our recurring argument that we have agreed NEVER to have again because it always results in someone going totally over the edge is:
the correction pronunciation of “fascia”.
(Tangled up in there: he has a PhD, he is a biologist, he KNOWS EVERYTHING. I: studied massage, WORKED ON FASCIA EVERY DAY, KNOW SO MUCH MORE ABOUT IT INCLUDING HOW TO PRONOUNCE IT, DAMMIT.)
(See? I couldn’t NOT caps lock all that.)
This is not precisely what you requested because it wasn’t a fight. But I shared a room with a math major in college. I was a lit major. In conversation one day he said, “If there are n people in a room…” and I interrupted him and said, “There are never n people in a room.” He thought it was so funny that he wrote it on a piece of paper and it was on the outside of our door the rest of the year. I chose to believe he was appreciating my different perspective on life and not making fun of me. Maybe that’s why it didn’t turn into a fight. And the first possibility was really more in character for me anyway.
In character for him, I meant.
Oh how I wish you had a reply option in your comments because I want to add “WE HAVE THIS FIGHT TOO!!” to approximately a dozen of these.
We had a screaming (on my part – quiet refusal to admit defeat on his part) fight about whether or not my husband leaves half empty soda cans on the counter by the sink. YES. HE DOES. I know this because I come down stairs in the morning and pick up the cans (of his brand of soda) to put in the recycle bin (why he cannot put them in the recycle bin himself is ANOTHER TOPIC) and there is still liquid in them. It happened 4 times in one week and I thought to myself “Jeez, what a waste of soda” so I mentioned it to him. He vehemently denied doing anything of the sort and insisted I TAKE A PICTURE of the cans to prove he does it.
Of course, now that he is AWARE of this habit he has stopped doing it and at least once a week he asks me why I have not yet TAKEN THE PICTURE. But I am patient and have a long memory and one day he’ll forget and then I WIN.
Mary – the fact that your husband builds airplanes and doesn’t want to fly? THAT is proof enough for me to never want to fly again.
We argue about pancakes. To me, pancakes are fluffy and require butter. To him, pancakes are thin and butter is the devil. When *I* make pancakes, I make both kinds. When HE makes pancakes, he makes them thin and then I refuse to eat pancakes and he gets pissed.
Also, being late. To me, 5 minutes early is ideal. To him, if he’s 5-10 late, then he’s ON TIME. Which is FINE if he wants to be late to his own crap, but when he makes ME late (like, he has to come home to watch the other children when one has an appointment) then I totally lose it.
Other stupid fights involve why he can’t remember ANYTHING/doesn’t pay attention and why I “never” pick up my shoes.
Hmmm… some people would say, “do you want to be married, or do you want to be right?” Those people are retarded, because reality is important. However. You are right, but it’s not really a big deal that your husband is being a douchebag. Just say, hey, I’m right and if you’d really like to be right, let’s go get your chainsaw and bring it to lunch. He doesn’t have to agree with you in order to be right. And if he keeps bringing it up, ask if he’d like to be chopped in to .333s. Because you can help him with that.
I wish you well with the simmering down – laundry baskets are cheap, so go ahead and stock up! :)
Our biggest fights involve my own “you’re doing it wrong” or “don’t tell me I’m doing it wrong” issues.
Oooh, I just thought of something – birthday cake. Cut it into .333s and offer him the TEENSY piece that he doesn’t think exists.
When we first got married he drank lots of pulp oj and I liked no pulp. I finally started buying ‘some pulp’ because he drinks more oj than I do, so whatever. But! I drank skim milk and he liked 2%. I actually drink the milk, he just pours it on his cereal. So I bought skim. And this enraged him to no end. He said we should compromise and buy the 2% which was “already a compromise” since he actually liked whole. What? And then if he bought the 2% he would get mad because I wouldn’t drink it. So I would buy both, and then he would get mad because it was a waste. The fact that I already bought ‘his’ oj didn’t matter to him, he wanted ‘his’ milk too. This argument went on for months with increasing intensity.
Flash forward four years and a toddler and now it doesn’t matter because we buy whole. Oh, and also skim. Because he’s in the Navy and on the boat 90% of the time anyway, so he really has no say.
I now buy lots of pulp oj, though.
You’re CLEARLY correct, Swistle.
Hm. I’ve lived with my husband for six years and I don’t think we’ve had one of these arguments. Since obviously we disagree about things, I’ve developed the theory that I am argumentatively lazy.
The closest things we’ve had may be multiple discussions about whether or not zombies are scary (I think they are, he doesn’t, and he is wrong).
blacksheeped
Omg, I’m dying laughing over all these stories. This is so funny–SO was trying to explain the Monty Hallproblem to me the other day! The thing is I know I would be arguing vehemently with him about it, IF my favorite professor hadn’t tried to explain it to me the same way once before :)
My SO and I got into a huge fight over an NFL commercial–it shows a man reluctantly selling his football tickets with his pregnant wife in the background. I was appalled that a man would be RELUCTANT to miss a football game to witness the BIRTH of his CHILD that his wife CARRIED IN HER BODY–and that men everywhere would apparently IDENTIFY and AGREE with this reluctance! This is what’s wrong with our society and why women still only make $.75 to a man’s dollar!!!!
SO’s arguments were a) the man was not reluctant, he was happy to be selling the tickets (INCORRECT) and b) SO wouldn’t miss the birth of his child for a football game therefore all my concerns about the grave societal implications of this commercial were irrelevant. AARRHGHGHGHGHG
Yes-our biggest fight is over an NFL TV commercial. And it still comes up from time to time!
.333 is not 1/3. I’d fight to the end for that one.
Of course, I still fight with my husband about the (mis)placement of his frocking socks, so it could be argued that I am one for useless arguments.
Sigh.
The Monty Hall problem. I once had a very – VERY – passionate argument about it that ended with my co-worker and I setting up random number generators and doing thousands of simulations and THE MONTY HALL PROBLEM IS NOT LOGICAL.
Oh, but I was supposed to give you an example of a fight. The biggest fight we ever had was over American Idol. My youngest was a baby and I needed something and I was in a chair feeding him, and my husband wouldn’t help me in that instant because he was WATCHING AMERICAN IDOL.
Oh, and I forgot to include the many, many fights we have had with regards to post-surgical medical advice. From a medical professional. When the surgeon gives me instructions, I follow them to the letter, I do not just randomly think of things that would be more optimal to do, post-surgery, as my husband would.
We fight over what constitutes yelling v. stating something with emotion. Also mumbling v. deafness. I think he mumbles (he does) and he thinks I’m going deaf. I will often ask him a question to which he makes no “thinking noises” that indicate he has heard me and is mulling over the question. Because I assume silence of more than a few seconds means you didn’t hear me. So I ask again and he eventually turtles out “I”m thinking”.
Anything above calm, modulated speech is seen as yelling by Sir Robot. Maybe I am going deaf or I (absurdly) have emotions!
My husband insists that Dr Pepper doesn’t have caffeine. Even though I’ve proven it does, and we both know that I am right, he still insists it doesn’t have caffeine because he won’t admit I’m right. We actually have several issues like this because even after he knows he’s wrong, he will continue to insist he’s right.
My husband and I got into a HUGE 3 day snarky email fight with lots of yelling in the evening hours… all because he flippantly paraphrased something his dad said, and I took it to be the literal translation of what his dad said. After THREE DAYS a bulb finally went off in his head and he said “oh he didn’t say it like that!” and in the end even he agreed that he would have taken that badly as well. *headdesk* I am STILL tired from that fight!
I can think of two arguments of this type that my husband and I have had.
1. When we were registering for everyday glasses before we got married, we could not agree. The ones he preferred were too big for my hands, so I felt that by him preferring them, he didn’t care about my discomfort. It was one of the biggest fights ever.
2. We argue over whether going 65, say, in a 60 mph zone is speeding. I say YES because the speed LIMIT is 60. He says no, because everyone goes 65 or higher and plus, cops probably won’t pull you over at that speed. STILL SPEEDING.
My husband is the kind of person who is always evaluating everything. Every book, every restaurant meal, every piece of music, every item of furniture or bar of soap — how could this be better? Whereas I usually just let things kind of wash over me unless they are actively horrible.
When this evaluative approach applies to ME, and especially to my cooking, as it frequently does, it pushes the NUCLEAR button. (After 17 years, plus 4 years of dating, I am a wee bit tired of it.) Not long ago, I was cooking dinner and my husband came in and said, in a reasonable tone, “Last time I made this, I put tarragon in it and I thought it was better,” and I SCREAMED, “THEN WHY DON’T YOU JUST FUCKING MAKE IT YOURSELF IF YOU LIKE IT SO MUCH” and stomped off.
Dumbest. Fight. Ever.
He also likes to make tiny adjustments to things I say or things the kids say. “Isn’t this a big rock, Daddy?” “Well, actually, that’s not a rock, it’s part of the road, so it’s asphalt.” HE ASKED YOU IF IT’S BIG FTLOG NOT WHAT IT’S MADE OF. Nuclear fights about this, too. But not money, sex, or values! So that’s good!
I LOVE this thread. And you, Swistle, for sharing the things that make me feel far less alone in this world, because you GET it.
I can’t remember specifics of the fights we’ve had in this category – thankfully they’re not all that frequent these days, and my approach has generally been to disengage until I forget about what he’s COMPLETELY WRONG about. Since I can’t recall any of the precipitating disagreements, I can now claim success! (If he will not STOP being wrong, and since he’s more stubborn than I am, I will [eventually] give up on correcting him so long as it’s not a practical matter.)
My husband and I have never had a major fight in all of our 13 years together (11 of them married). Not sure what that says about us…
I had to respond to R. (June 4 12:34pm). My husband can not drink caffeine and we used to buy caffeine-free Dr. Pepper ALL THE TIME. They don’t make it anymore, but they still make Caffeine-Free Diet Dr. Pepper. the decaf has gold on the label
Snoopyfan,
They actually do make caffeine free regular Dr. Pepper! You can mail order it from drpepper.com. My in-laws can buy it where they live (in western Maryland), and my cousin can buy it in Chattanooga. We bring it home it by the case when we go visiting people who can buy it locally!
This post and the comments are making my day. I once had a screaming fight with a roommate over whether John Denver could properly be referred to as an artist. We could never speak about it again because it was too inflammatory for us.
Biggest fight – over whether or not it is ethical to bring a collapsible cup into the movie theatre in order to take advantage of the free refills (by transferring the pop into the cup and then going back for a refill before the movie begins). I say that if you’re concealing the cup, you’re acting unethically, and it FREAKED ME OUT that hubby (boyfriend at the time) considered this to be even hypothetically okay. But having been cheated on in my previous relationship, I was a bit sensitive on the issue of lying.
But now I’ve got to know: who took what side in the Monty Hall problem and what were your reasons?
I’m married to a “slight adjuster” like Jenny who posted previously.
My husband likes to make tiny adjustments to things the kids or I say.
For example, in a conversation I WAS HAVING WITH MY FRIEND, that HUSBAND is not even a part of FTLOG!
Bethtastic: “We lived in Ft. Wayne, Indiana for a year before we moved to Nebra…”
Husband butting in: “Eleven months. We lived in Ft. Wayne for 11 months.”
Bethtastic: “The point is that we moved to Nebraska after living in Indiana, but you didn’t let me make my point.”
Husband: “But we didn’t live there for a year.”
Bethtastic: “You aren’t even a part of this conversation, I was talking with Friend!”
Husband: “But we didnt live there for a year.”
Bethtastic: “Kiss my ass you bastard.”
Husband: “What was that for?”
Bethtastic: *SCREAMING!!*
Repeat for 15.5 years.
Twenty-plus years ago, before husband and I were married, I was going to buy a new album. I wanted to buy it on cassette; he wanted me to buy it on CD.
Him: CDs are better than cassettes.
Me: I don’t own a CD player. I only have a cassette player.
Him: But I own a CD player. We’re getting married in a month. Then it will be your CD player too. Why buy the inferior version?
Me: Because I want to listen to this music NOW. I don’t want to wait a month.
Him: But CDs are better than cassettes.
Me: *doesn’t buy it at all*
More recently, we argued over crayons. It wasn’t a shouting match; we’re not yellers, but it stayed with me because it made no sense. Husband is an anti-packrat. He’s constantly on the lookout for clutter to eliminate. Unless, apparently, that clutter is crayons. I always buy crayons when they’re super cheap at back to school sales, and over the years we’ve accumulated probably ten pounds of them. It isn’t even a good variety, just the same 24 crayons over and over again. I set them aside, planning to get rid of them, and he wouldn’t let me. He could not stand the thought of me throwing away those possibly-someday-useful crayons. It isn’t like we don’t have others. I recently splurged on the 96 color box. That’s plenty of crayons. But he insisted. We still have all of them. (I’m thinking of throwing out a handful at a time. Would that be wrong?)
Ready for this? I HATE with a passion when he dislikes and/or comments negatively about a celebrity that I happen to like. I have no idea why is pisses me off so much. Nor do I have any clue as to why I feel the need to defend a celebrity that I don’t know. Yes I know it’s absolutely crazy.
Dani
SWISTLE! I just brought this up to my husband, and he and I are now fighting (he has taken Paul’s side).
Interesting social experiment: how many fights will be spurred by this post?
Around here the arguments that end in tears are almost entirely spurred by talking about money.
Hubby and I are both engineers and we both really like to be right. And we hate being condescended to. So big fights start around here if one of us is getting a little to smug/know-it-all-ish. Rather than fight over math and science though we regularly fight over what’s most ‘efficient’, particularly if ‘efficient’ screws with ‘esthetic’ or ‘what I want’. heh.
Some interesting math/science fights in my past:
1. The jumping in an elevator problem discussed between a friend and myself ended with me in tears.
2. The Monty Hall Problem had my hubby and my Dad in a shouting match (I intervened)
3. My Dad and his sisters can no longer speak to each other because of an argument that took place at a family dinner over Archimedes principle. Seriously. Archimedes broke up the family (alright, there was obviously more to it than that.. but still).
Those are the big ones that come to mind.
Okay here are a few:
He never puts the toilet paper on the right way.
I spent hours cooking these beautiful ribs one night, and when he sat down to eat he dipped them in FISH SAUCE. I lost my shit. Lost it!!!!! I had just spent hours creating something and he just fucking dunked it in sauce. I was livid. I started in about him not respecting what I make and he said I didn’t respect how he liked to eat things and then it turned into a cultural battle and then the next day he put ketchup on something and it was like …. divorce imminent because HE FUCKING DID IT AGAIN. We worked it out but I still want to smash sometime every time he reaches for hot sauce or ketchup or the mother fucking fish sauce.
He believes that if you don’t want to do something then DON’T. Which doesn’t seem like it would be a big fight until it’s over one of two things:
1. If you want to lose weight, stop eating bad. JUST STOP. People who say they “can’t” are lying if you don’t want to DON’T it’s just that easy.
2. Mental disease doesn’t exist. If you don’t want to be bipolar don’t. Meds are fake and doctors just want money. If you want to be happy, be happy. Your just depressed and eating because you want to….if you want to get better then just stop!
JUST STOP HE SAYS. OMFG I WANT TO STRANGLE HIM THINKING ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!
And finally…The location of the toaster. He wants me to pull it out to use it so I don’t catch a cabinet on fire and unplug it and push it in when I’m done. We had a full on nearly break up smashing things fight because of this. Because my toast IS NOT GOING TO CATCH ON FIRE and why why why WHY IN THE FUCK DO I NEED TO UNPLUG THE TOASTER
K I posted on my blog asking people to tell me their little fights too….I also added one more little fight Rob and I have. I linked up to you…you’ll have to check in to see if I get any funny comments also…
http://www.misguidedmommy.com/blog/527/What-is-your-best-
I see but one flaw in your “people are wholes” theory… HOW MANY PEOPLE AM I right now? I think I’m at least 1 6/9ths of a person… :)
My husband can’t let go of the fact that I said “I do” at our wedding instead of “I will”. The minister said “Will you take this man..” and I looked into my sweet husband’s eyes and said “I do”. And he has mocked me for it ever since. This has come up often. Once I may have said “well thank goodness we aren’t technically married then!” Seriously though, I know I am right. They aren’t called your “I Wills”. We will be arguing about this at our grandchildren’s weddings, I am certain.
I have been thinking a lot about this, especially after I brought it up with Jim anyway and we got a bit snippy with each other. I also brought up the Monty Hall thing and we got snippy. Apparently these are both hot-button issues (re: Monty Hall, I said that I don’t care if it increases my odds or not, the thing that pisses me off is that I pick door #1 and he opens #3!).
I remembered that we used to (ahem, still do) fight about WHEN Jim is going to get ready. He will generally wait until ~20 minutes before we re leaving to shower and get ready. I feel like he should be getting ready and THEN doing whatever he is doing so that when he, inevitably, loses track of time, he will already be ready. But he won’t. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal, and.he hardly ever makes us late, but STILL! So annoying. :)
Pretty sure Jenny and I are married to the same guy. Especially with the corrections to my cooking.
Husband and I don’t really fight because he’s one of those engineers that’s always calm. So I fight and he stares at me until I calm down. But my ex-boyfriend and I would have knock-down SCREAMING fights about the Civil War. I’m from California and he’s from Texas, and our issue was the cause of the Civil War. I say slavery. He said states rights. I say well, YEAH, states rights TO HAVE SLAVES. Commence the screaming.
What’s funny is we’re still really good friends, in fact I was a “groomsman” in his wedding, and we still can’t talk about it. Anytime the Civil War comes up, we both change the subject.
-JuniorBobo
I am so entertained by this post, you have no idea. I feel like I should bring up the Monty Hall problem with Leo just to see what would happen. I may have to do that with many of these arguments to see which ones he gets WRONG.
Our fights tend to centre around his dirty clothes on the floor BESIDE the hamper and his tendency to leave all the cupboard doors open. (Seriously, he’s NEVER closed a cupboard.) I tend to block out past fights, but we have had knockdown drag out fights over his belief that when you unpack the groceries, you should leave jars of pickles, containers of soup & other cans on top of the counter so that “the kitchen looks lived in.” What? NO? It just makes the kitchen LOOK MESSY & UNCLEAN.
Beloved and I have had some serious fights about her inability to pick up after herself or do basic housework, but it turns out that was all her ADD.
Oh holy shit, I HATE math but this had me rolling.
I am so sending it onto my husband because a.) he is an engineer and 2.) we never have fights like this but he often seems to feel so put upon in our marriage and hates to argue so much that it might be a good reminder of how much worse he could have it if I did argue. (I just basically think he’s a dumbass and keep it to myself….no point in arguing the obvious.)
I have found the Monty Hall problem one of the fastest ways to get someone to disagree with me. Having taken a buttload of advanced statistics and econometrics courses in grad school, of course you should switch doors. But SOOOO many people can’t see the logic in that.
Yep. Had husband read this because I thought it was funny, and he wanted to discuss the math. *sigh*
First I must say I love Paul and I’m glad he made a return to the blog.
Our be all end alll fight is movie quoting. My husband has seen every movie in the world at least four times. He feels like he should quote these movies at random times, all the time, and then let a little giggle like it is the funniest thing ever. Even thoough he knows I HATE it. I mean imagine what that looks like to strangers? Probably like he has a major social awkward uncomfortable issue and he uses movie quotes to deal with that awkwardness. Which I believe is fully the case. And if you misquote a movie? LOOK OUT. That is not okay! Geez, husbands.
I am going to add mine and go back and finish reading the stories. THESE ARE MAKING MY MONDAY!
A favorite argument of mine is the correct doseage of ibuprofen if you are in *a lot* of pain. My husband says that it states clearly on the bottle 1 or 2 tablets. He takes 1. Never 2. If he takes 2, he is dying, please call 911.
I was told by many different doctors that 4=prescription strenth ibuprofen and if you are in big pain (think after c-section or period cramps that have you moaning like you are in labor), you can take up to 4. Once a month, I take 4 tablets so that I can function/sleep.
EVERY MONTH we argue that it’s “too much” and the bottles says 1 OR 2. He does not care that medical types have assured me that 4 is safe, even prescribed (800mg) if you are IN BIG PAIN.
Sigh. I am worked up about this now. I only take 4 TOTAL a month. He takes many many more over the course of a month. I just…I..ugh. nevermind.
most of our knock down arguments can be solved with a dictionary. i always win. :)
i’m still not sure which side of the .333 and 1/3 you come down on.
Oh man how I have enjoyed reading this post and the comments. So happy to know my husband and I aren’t the only ones who have stupid arguments. Early on in our relationship we had a serious argument – I mean I cried and went home and had to be alone – over whether it’s better to use butter or shortening in chocolate chip cookies. Seriously.
Oh my gosh, I think this is my favorite blog post ever. I’m dying.
The biggest fight my ex and I ever had was over the definition of “quesadilla”, and what kind of food could be referred to as a “quesadilla” (my stance: ONE. His: FOUR). We BOTH ended up crying, and he slept on the couch for two nights.
My (now) fiance and I have chickens, and recently we got into a yelling match next to the chicken coop about what to name our latest addition (My suggestion: Scuttle. His suggestion: Ariel). OH MY GOD HOW STUPID.
OK. 1/3 and .333 are equal, but they are not the SAME. There is a difference.
@Bethtastic and Juniorbobo — just last night I said to my husband, “I saw this news story where these twin friars died within hours of each other today at the age of 92! Isn’t that amazing?” and he said, “Well, I don’t think that happened TODAY,” and I said if he kept making tiny adjustments to what I said I would put an icepick in his ear while he slept.
For us it’s what constitutes leaving the house. My stance is that once you walk through the door and are no longer under the roof you have left the house. He disagrees and feels it doesn’t count unless you actually go away from the house/property.
This one set us both off…and (shamefully hangs head) has been thrown on other people to prove our rightness. Much to his chagrin, they usually agree with me :)
Anonymous-My husband gets worked up about the correct dosage of pain medication also. I just say it is his business if he wants to continue to be in pain, but I don’t want to hear about it and my life insurance is paid up so if I die of an ibuprofen overdose he and the kids will be taken care of.
John and I had a knock down drag out fight about whether an animal I saw on the bank of the Chicago River was a woodchuck. IT WAS. I SAW IT. “Are you sure it wasn’t a rat?” he asks, as if I could not tell the difference between a RODENT, with a LONG SKINNY TAIL, and a furry woodchuck with a furry woodchuck tail. HE WAS NOT THERE. IT WAS A WOODCHUCK. (This happened recently, can you tell?)
I want these comments to go on FOREVER. People fighting over cookies! Woodchucks! Definitions! And ending up in tears and/or SLEEPING ON THE COUCH.
I am dying laughing. Swistle, you are the best, and you have the best commenters ever.
Okay, Husband and I have been married for almost 28 years and had a HUGE fight, the biggest one I can ever remember, over which color to paint the living room. Which is clearly the wife’s job to decide. And, come to think of it, since we’ve raised four kids in the meantime, maybe a good thing to have the Worst Fight Ever about.
We have a recurring fight over whether when he suddenly and alarmingly begins cursing, I am allowed to ask what’s wrong and get an answer without getting my head bit off. See, I can never tell whether he is cursing because something has happened to him or to one of the kids and I need to come running to help, or if he is cursing because he’s merely frustrated at an inanimate object (this happens a lot). So I would ask “what happened” and then I’d get no answer or I’d be vented on. I fixed it though, I never ever ask “what happened?” So when he is trapped under a fallen limb or being electrocuted, I won’t know until he gets some more words out.
Hrm…fights that don’t make sense outside of the relationship…Hrm…what to call the dinning room table and what type of toilet paper to buy.
Here’s the deal with the table. I call it the dinning room table because it is in the dinning room, even though in our previous house it was in the kitchen. We have a different table in this kitchen, it’s a little bistro table, but because it’s in the kitchen I call it the kitchen table. I am right on this. My husband, however calls the bistro table the kitchen table because something like the PROPER NAME of things is apparently a silly little detail that he doesn’t need to know. He ALSO calls the dinning room table the kitchen table. I have cried over this. Over his insensitivity and deliberate attempt at being obtuse, his continued jackhattery and absolute refusal to take a second and clarify which table he meant when when I asked him where my keys were and instead insist that I should just KNOW that when he says kitchen table he means dinning room table because the OTHER kitchen table is in an inconvenient location for him to drop the keys on the way through the house. We are both willing to go to the grave defending our stance.
Oh, and who could forget the world class blow out at Fairway over which type of toilet paper to buy, the one that is the cheapest per roll (his desire) or the one that works most effectively and comfortably. That “conversation” nearly ended our marriage.
He’s done some pretty fantastic husbandy things too though. One time when he came home from work to see me bawling like a baby because the new box of Cheerios was too tall to fit in the cereal cupboard (and we all know any other cupboard is the WRONG cupboard and how could he even SUGGEST such a thing, was he trying to make me more upset???), he beat the shit out of that box for me. We’re talking slow motion, rap music, toasted O’s flying everywhere, ass beating. It was awesome.
It’s quite obvious, that you are right, and he is wrong. There is no other way to look at it. *fist bump*
There was in Intern in my office who came to me one day to ask if she could somehow leave her coat in the office to go on a late night interview at an office down the street. She did not have a key to the office and asked me at about 5:45 when I was the only other person in the office. I said, “Sure, I will leave the backdoor unlocked so you can just come back in when you are done with the interview to get your coat.”
The next day when I arrived in the office, the back door was unlocked. You should know that during her orientation I specifically trained this Intern to always make sure the doors are locked if she was the last person in the office.
For some reason, the fact that Intern neglected to lock the door when she left was a tipping point on top of a bad day I was having when other people weren’t doing their jobs. I told him about it when I was letting off steam. Instead of being supportive, he didn’t understand WHY I was upset. We got into a huge argument about whether the person creating an exception to normal “default” protocol is responsible for correcting the exception after her need for the exception is resolved or if explicit instructions are necessary from the person authorizing the exception. AHHH!
Bart and I had a huge fight because at Disneyland I noticed that Mrs. Incredible in the little show they did in the middle of the street had major camel toe. I had pictures backing me up. He swore it was just a fabric mistake, and not an actual cameltoe, and wondered why the heck I was so concerned, and when I was having fun discussing said camel toe on Facebook, he got pissed of, slammed off all the lights, slammed the door to the bedroom and went o bed. Apparently I ruined the clean image of Mrs. Incredible he had.
Ravin- I think I would give myself a stroke over the dining room table thing.
I’m so late but I’m laughing HARD.
We fight about whether or not BOXING is a SPORT. (It’s NOT.)
It’s two guys beating each other bloody and it even takes skill and strength but it’s NO SPORT.
Ahem.
Anyway.
My word verification is “beast.” I’m not even kidding.
Our biggest fight ever was about a cell phone. For a few years, I had one and he didn’t. He would occassionally accuse me of being obessed with the phone, not because I talked on in a lot, but I was always checking to make sure I had it with me. On the day his nephew was getting married I had a bunch of errands to run. When I got home, he left to go for a bike ride before the wedding. I then remembered I had to run out to get a gift bag and took my daughter with me. When we got home I was putting things in my dressy purse and couldn’t find my phone. I knew I had it with me in the morning while running errands, but now it was missing. I tried calling it from the home phone several times. Then I packed my daughter back into the car and we drove to all the places I’d been that day to look around and ask if anyone had found it. There was no sign of it. I kept fretting about how much crap he was going to give me for losing it, and how much it would cost to replace it. When he finally got home I was about to confess when all of a sudden he pulls MY phone out of his pocket. I was LIVID! And what I said to him was inapproproate, but still! If he had answered one of the 5 times I called the phone I wouldn’t have been upset. I said, “I could f@#$ing kill you!” That set off the biggest fight we’ve ever had. I cried the whole way to the wedding, and we didn’t speak for about 3 days. During that time he went out and got his own cell phone.
Best post and comments ever. :) I am still laughing over Puff the Magic Dragon, Whether John Denver Can Be Called An Artist, and Refusal to Smell the Sweaty Shirt. :)
The two dumbest fights between me and my husband:
1.) He is a NY Yankees fan and hates the Boston Red Sox. So, a few months after we’d started dating, those two teams were in the playoffs with each other, and Boston won (or just did better in some games, I don’t remember), and I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t “just be happy” for the Red Sox and their fans for having won. I understood that he was disappointed, but after you set that aside, can’t you just think “Well, good for the other team. They played well, and especially after so many years of being the underdogs, this has to be sweet for their fans”?! But no, apparently not. He sounded like such a jerk-ish maniac as he ranted in disbelief at my suggestion that he “be happy” for Boston that I heartily disliked him for the first time in our young relationship and I was crying by the end of the “discussion” and was really thinking we were going to break up over it, to the point that I was in bed that night trying to think of new neighborhoods I could move to and sobbing over how awkward and sad it would be to see him around town post-break-up. (We had been good friends for nine years before we’d even started dating, so the “likelihood” of our breaking up over the Red Sox’ success makes it even better.)
That argument, which we have had a few times since then (of course, once was not enough!), also sometimes goes down the additional track of my asking “How can you just keep rooting for one team anyway and automatically ‘hate’ another team when the players change each season anyway?! You’re basically just supporting a uniform or title, not the actual players, since it changes all the time.” Like Johnny Damon, the former Red Sox player who became a Yankee: He “hated” him when he was a Red Sox player but “liked” him and rooted for him once he was a Yankee. Please! But he disagrees–as most sports fans would, I know–and I know we’ll never see each other’s point of view on this.
Oh, and during that original argument, I also made the apparently grave error of saying, “Even if you don’t like them, can’t you just enjoy watching them PLAY?” because I think that if you enjoy a sport, even if you don’t like the particular team, surely you can appreciate the grace/agility/power/strength/TALENT they’re displaying and just enjoy seeing that? He looked like his head was about to pop off as I explained all this, and his anger made me even more frustrated with him.
And 2.) We both love “Twin Peaks.” I had never watched it until I watched it with him, so we watched the series on dvd together one episode at a time during dinner soon after we started dating, and it was just this fun thing between us. Until we got to the final episode. Without ruining it for anyone who hasn’t seen it, I’ll just say that I hated the ending and thought it was stupid and silly, and my husband still gets literally red in the face and worked up about it every time I mention it. Jeebus GAH! It is just a SHOW! Fine if YOU like the ending! We can’t discuss anything “Twin Peaks”-related because it always turns into this fight.
Ahhh, relationships!
These comments are KILLING me! They are so funny!
Our worst fight ever, on repeat for the last 15 years:
Him: (leaves stuff everywhere)
Me: (angrily puts away stuff)
Him: “I can’t find my stuff! STOP MOVING MY STUFF! YOU’RE ALWAYS MOVING MY STUFF!!!
Me: PUT YOUR STUPID STUFF WHERE IT BELONGS AND YOU WON’T HAVE THAT PROBLEM!!
I wish I had the problem in life of too many people cleaning up after me. Whatever. Now I’m mad.
My husband and I have fought over the definition of a “free spirit”. He thinks it is someone who enjoys life and has a good time. I say it is someone I don’t want to be stuck doing a project with, they won’t do their part and I will have to do everything while they are out “free-spiriting”. To me a free spirit isn’t someone I want to rely on. He was SHOCKED that someone would think a free spirit was a negative thing.
This is perfect. My husband & I have horrible fights over the stupidest shit all the time. Often it’s just tone, where I walk into the living room after putting the kids to bed and say “Are you going to watch the game AND use the iPad all night?” and he replies with, “Oh why, do you need to send Jello shots to Shannon on Facebook?” GRRRR
But a few other biggies have been over which brand of pasta to buy, how to cut onions for salad, which vacuum to buy….we fought for 3 years over whether we should put in1 or 2 sinks when we remodeled our bathroom. I mean, we fought about it EVERY NIGHT while we brushed our teeth and it PREVENTED us from moving forward with the project for 3 years. He insists that he is the “decider of all bedtimes” and that no matter what I am in the middle of I have to drop whatever it is and go to bed right then. Every night. Seriously, I could go on forever.
The fight that will still make me furious is over “scissor vs. scissors”. Years ago, my husband called it “a scissor”. He would say, “hand me a scissor” and I would correct him to say, “it’s scissors, hand me the pair of scissors”. Then fast forward to present day, and he insists HE was the one that said “scissors” back then and I was the stupid one who called them “a scissor”. HE IS WRONG!! I just remind him he is the stupid one who said “a scissor” because he also called the thing in the middle of the road a “meridian” when it’s clearly a “median”. :)
A frustrating argument that has continued over several years is whether or not the year “0” belongs on a timeline (between 1 BC and 1 AD). It’s not good enough just to not discuss it; I want him to admit there has to be a zero there!
But the angriest I’ve ever gotten (I believe I used the word A**h*** for the only time in 41 years of marriage) was when my husband said the words, “Well, you DID.” This was after 1) my father in law commented that I “talked all the time” which resulted in 2) my being entirely silent during a half-day’s drive through Canada with said father-in-law as well as mother-in-law and husband, after which 3) my father-in-law commented that I had sure talked a lot during the drive, in fact had talked the entire time. I held my tongue, but later was complaining to my husband, saying, “I talked all the time DURING THAT DRIVE?” to which he said, 4) “Well, you DID.”
That was about 32 years ago (and my father-in-law has long since died), and my heart still pounds writing this. Hmm. About time I forgave them both, wouldn’t you say?
Oh thank you for this.
Worst fights ever involve him commenting on my driving. After 15 years he now, mostly, follows my commandment “DO NOT UTTER A WORD ABOUT MY DRIVING UNLESS I AM REALLY, TRULY, ABOUT TO KILL SOMEONE – SERIOUSLY SHUT UP”
The other worst driving fights involve my inability to read a map while he is driving. I can read a map perfectly well, however, I get severely carsick when I read in the car and refuse to look at a map unless he pulls over. He just “doesn’t understand” why I can’t look at the map and I just don’t understand why he is such a prick about it. We have mostly solved this problem by having me drive and him navigate.
Lately our fights revolve around his mother’s excessive present buying for the kids. He wants to just let it go and I am being driven insane my the amount of crap she buys them.
Late to the party. Sorry!
Before I start: I read this post to my husband and he is INCENSED that Paul would not agree with you. It’s SO OBVIOUS. He started arguing with him on your behalf, and got quite worked up in the process. Ha.
My brother and I -as adults home for Christmas – got into a fight at the dinner table surrounding whether or not I was qualified to make the statement “I don’t want to live in New York City.” Me being, you know, ME, felt that yes I am qualified to make that statement, because I DON”T WANT TO LIVE THERE, and his point was that without having all the fact and having never experience it, I was just being close minded and therefor should restrain myself from making statements like that.
We “discussed” this for over three hours. THREE HOURS. Why I could not be all “You’re a dick, shut up” I have no idea (yes I do I’m a little sister and regardless of how old I am I am clearly incapable of doing this.) While the rest of the family sat at dinner (and after) and thought “what a bunch of idiots”
This was five years ago AND I’M STILL GETTING PISSED OFF THINKING ABOUT THIS FIGHT.
Regarding marital fights: I don’t really remember how it started, but we somehow got to a place where my husband had to say: “Just because I leave a plate in the sink does not mean that I don’t love you or respect you”
Which, YES IT CLEARLY DOES, because obviously when you leave shit in the sink you are assuming someone else is just going to take care of it FOR you, which offends me on a few levels, not the least of which is seriously, the dishwasher is RIGHT THERE. TWO FEET AWAY. COME ON.
Oh look at that, I do remember how it started.
Anyway, none of those even compare to the level of FLAMES ON THE SIDE OF MY FACE intensity that the “Coffee mugs: must be a matching set, or not” caused.
Wait, I forgot another one: while we were dating, we had a HUGE fight over whether or not Paul Simon’s Graceland could be considered one of the best albums of all time. (IT CAN.)This resulted in DAYS of fighting, where I at one point said: “One day we’re going to break up, and the only explanation I will need to give people is that you don’t like Paul Simon, and everyone will understand that there was no way I could be expected to keep dating you.”
Swistle, I just have to say thank you to you and your commenters for this post/following comments.
You see, fiance and I were driving from IL to NC after loading a 16′ moving truck. By the end of said trip and loading/unloading we had been up about 37 hours straight.
Many, many little spats and tears were occurring near the end.
Then, I turned on my iPhone and was browsing Twitter when I saw this and came here. I read your post and lots of the comments aloud. Fiance and I were cracking up, entertained for about an hour.
My soon to be ex husband and I argued at LENGTH and with passion about the differences or lack there of between “character actors” and “supporting actors”. I will omit the details of the argument here. But my ex has a biology degree and is a computer science dude for a living. I teach dance and took drama etc so I naturally consider myself the more expert on the subject and to this day seek the opinion of those in the “industry” to clear up the argument so I can declare myself right. turns out others have a similarly vague definition as well.
we also argued about the use or “er” vs. “more” as in “more shiny” vs “shinier”. I actually was so perturbed by both incidents I blogged about them.
There is a rule about the “er” debate which is dependent on the number of syllables. therefore “shiner” is correct. I won that one. The other one is yet to be determined.
Our first argument was during the week of Thanksgiving when we were newlyweds. My shy, quiet, soft-spoken, gentle husband and I fought about frozen turkeys. He said that’s the only way to purchase a turkey. I disagreed (of course) and laughed at him, thinking he was joking. He wasn’t. His mom only ever purchased frozen turkeys therefore that’s the only way he thought they came. That should never have been an argument, but it was, because he 100% believed it and didn’t want to be proven wrong even after realizing he was so wrong. That’s when I realized this wonderful guy also was quite opinionated and stubborn, just like me.
In our 20 years we’ve had many screaming, headed-for-divorce arguments, mostly about what he said (in his head) and what I thought he said (his actual words). Screaming… Kids crying… No talking for 3 days… That kind of thing. Worst part is that I’m the one who doesn’t talk for 3 days, and have steam coming out of my ears the whole time. He forgets the argument 2 minutes after leaving the room, which just gets me more mad to the point of not remembering why I was mad in the first place.
Any time an apology is necessary from my husband, the situation will undoubtedly escalate into passionate exclamations, slammed doors, and probably tears. He REFUSES to apologize, no matter how in the wrong he is! He will go round and round, explaining away and admitting he messed up, but the words “I’m sorry” will never, ever escape his lips. It’s maddening!! 90% of the time we fight about his stubbornness on this issue, more than what je actually did that hurt my feelings.
We also have had drag out fights over his driving. He thinks it’s no big deal that he blows through stop signs and red lights ON THE REGULAR, not because he’s some daredevil but because he DOESN’T SEE THEM. What?!?! He started freaking out and wouldn’t speak to me once because I told him I didn’t want him trying his hand at race car driving (no, seriously!). In front of company! If I so much as make a scared motion while in the passenger seat, he gets offended. But seriously, who just doesn’t see red lights and stop signs?!
To be fair, I get irrationally angry (as in, tears and silent treatment) almost every time we watched this last season of The Real World (guilty pleasure shows FTW!). He always defends the douchiest, most sniveling person in the cast and all of a sudden I’m all, “ONLY A MONSTER COULD DEFEND THEM, WHAT KINS OF PERSON ARE YOU?!”
Although I can’t offer a stupid fight example (although I should be able to, ’cause I know we do them… oooh I got one! Like Jenny, my husband has been known to act like every time is my first time in the car, eventhough I’ve been driving for longer than he has. The last time this happened (I think I scraped a curb while parking?) he wouldn’t drop it and I “let” him drive home. He hit two curbs on en route! While moving! HA! Karma totally exists! :))
OK, back to my original thought, maybe a bit of a truce? It’s been awhile since I took theoretical math/science classes in college but… isn’t there a thing called significant digits? That is, if you are dealing with a human problem, thus whole integers, your significant digit is the 1s place, so 3.999… would get rounded up to 4. (Therefore, your written example should be graded wrong!) This would rectify the repeating decimal in any real life situation (like having to measure out .3333… grams of flour or something) by giving you a context which to round.
Maybe? Truce?
I know I’m pretty late, but this is such a fun post that I can’t resist commenting! Hopefully someone will actually see it (Karen L, this one’s for you!). :P
So, I don’t often have “silly” fights, but I can think of a couple examples…
I dated this guy a while back who never made what I called “affirmation sounds” during a conversation. You know how most people will say “uh huh,” “right,” “yeah,” etc. when you’re talking, just to let you know they’re listening? Not him. Not even a little. And it drove me NUTSO. It made me feel like he wasn’t listening/engaged (even though I KNEW he was, based on his comprehension), and it made it hard to tell if he had heard me (I can’t tell you how many times I thought my phone had dropped the call when he sat there perfectly silent after I finished talking). I wouldn’t say it was a “straight to 11” argument at all, but it did end up being one of the reasons (among others, of course) that we broke up.
(Funny side note: after we broke up, I ended up taking a college linguistics course, where I learned that “affirmation sounds” were an actual *thing* (called “backchanneling”). My textbook even SAID that when the listener doesn’t backchannel, the speaker may feel [exactly how I felt].)
Oh, and Swistle, I am so with you about the numbers thing. If .333… has to go on forever, then it will NEVER reach 1/3. It will come infinitesimally close, but it will never BE 1/3. And if it’s not 1/3, HOW CAN YOU SAY IT’S 1/3?! I think I would smash a laundry basket, too.
(Apologies for the longest comment ever written.) :)
Thanks Twee Poppets! And yeah that would drive me around the bend, too. Especially ON THE PHONE, for the love of God. On a similar note, I have come close to yelling at my DH, “There is a difference between not hearing and not listening!” Okay, I did yell it and punctuate it with a door slam.
Thought of this post and just had to come comment again because we had one of those ridiculous fights. It was over the difference between a branch, stick, and twig. He swears that he was “taught by his family” that everything that falls off of a tree is a branch. He wanted me to come see the “branch” that blew in to the window during a storm last night. For the record it was a twig and the fight began. Ho-hum….
I am still loving this thread and all its comments. :)
Okay, so, *not* that I’m taking sides Buuuuuut: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TINfzxSnnIE&feature=relmfu
I see the math and logic of the Monty Hall problem but I do not understand it intuitively. At all.
My husband’s and my biggest and longest fight is over pajamas in various forms.
Our first year of marriage, I often had to bring work home. I’d get up at my usual 6 am on Saturdays, do the dishes (no dishwasher!), do the laundry and then settle on the couch with my paperwork in my PJs. Husband would get up at noon (NOON!) and have an absolute FIT about how lazy I was. I was incredulous, week after week. What the heck, dude?!? I’ve been up for six hours, cleaned a lot and I’m WORKING even now! He’d been sleeping! How can he call me lazy?!?
This happened week after week…after week. Until epiphany: his family doesn’t wear PJs. He and his brothers sleep in their boxers and put on jeans as soon as they get up. As the only female, his mom didn’t wear nightgowns or jammies around her sons. So my Darling Husband was completely, physically UNABLE to see how much work I’d already done; he could ONLY see that I was in my pajamas, the ULTIMATE in laziness.
Well, yes. I work in a professional career and have to dress up. Saturdays were my day OFF, to stay in my jammies even while I was still WORKING.
Once I finally understood his ridiculousness, I changed two things: I got yoga pants to wear as PJs and he’s totally fine with them, even though most days I change into my soft comfy pants the second I get home from work. I also started keeping ‘real’ clothes in the living room with me and the SECOND I heard him waking in our room, I would change into jeans by the time he got out of bed.
I still think he’s insane and illogical (sleeping til NOON vs getting up EARLY and WORKING but wearing pajamas while working?!? ARRRRRGGGGGGG) but he’s not so critical of me and my laziness.
I still deeply resent how many fights we had about this and how RUDE he was to accuse me. In my family, it is the ULTIMATE in AWESOMENESS to have a pj day. That means we don’t have to leave the house, it means we can just enjoy each other at home. My aunts and cousins and mom and grandma are all in agreement, so when Darling Husband criticized me so vehemently, it felt like he was criticizing my whole familial upbringing.
Love this post, and the comments. And OMG THE MONTY HALL PROBLEM. This has never actually turned into a raging argument for us, but there have been a NUMBER of discussions, and I have seen the math, AND the flow chart, and I UNDERSTAND, but for the life of me I cannot ACCEPT that you have any better chance of getting the good prize if you switch than if you stay the same. DH just keeps trying to re-explain, but he’s already explained it, and I can see the math, but my brain does not accept it, and he does not accept that.
Our hot button topics are usually: amount of time a person should take to accelerate/brake the car, whether or not it’s necessary to wear a seat belt in the back seat of a car, insurance of any kind but especially health insurance, and whether one theoretical cigarette would be okay to smoke.
DH has not smoked a cigarette since we started dating, and never smoked regularly in his life. When he was in college, sometimes he would have one or two at a party. A couple of key times in our relationship (when we started dating, when it got serious, before we got married, etc) I have let him know that it is Not Okay with me if he smokes, and I do not want to be married to someone who smokes, even if it is only once a year. I lost three of my grandparents to smoking-related cancers, and I just CANNOT HANDLE IT FROM MY S.O., and he knows that and YET! STILL! he says that he “can’t promise anything” and that he would smoke one if he were “in a situation where it would be socially necessary”. None of our friends smoke. None of his coworkers smoke. None of our families smoke. Despite him NOT BEING ABLE TO COME UP WITH SUCH A SITUATION, he still won’t promise that he’ll never do it. He says it’s because he takes his promises very seriously, and he needs to allow for the possibility of it happening, and also one cigarette is not going to kill him. I feel like first of all, if he can’t even IMAGINE a situation where it would be necessary, then he should just make the promise. Second, THERE IS NO SITUATION. He can just say no! And yes, it probably wouldn’t kill him, but it bothers me on a Very Intense level, so why can’t he just abstain, should the Situation ever arise? So yeah, this is one of those stupid arguments that threatens to destroy the relationship, that no one else would understand. A theoretical cigarette that more than likely will never exist. (This would — hopefully — never ACTUALLY destroy our relationship, but it’s about as close as we get.)
And I don’t actually hold smoking against anyone else I know. I have coworkers who smoke, and I don’t mind them doing it. In college, all of my friends/professors smoked. It never bothered me. But I also never promised to love them in sickness and in health until the end of our days, either. I hold DH to a higher standard because I want him to still be around when I’m 80 and 90 years old. So he better not put himself at risk! (Which is also the root of the seat belt in the back seat issue, and the driving issue….)
Anyway, it was fun to read all the comments and know that everyone has their (sometimes silly) Hot Button Issues, and we are not alone. Community!