Love, true love.

Lesco and I have been at each other’s throats. Rabid dog style. I think the stress is getting to us. I lie in bed wondering what Dr. Phil would say even though I hate that guy. He would ramble on about he and Robin have never, ever yelled at each other in 580 years of marital bliss. Liar. Jared and I could have ‘em in a screaming match after an hour. It’s a gift. We love watching public couple fights.

So I’ve been thinking about how we fight.

We have done some awful things.

Like the time we were lying in bed and I decided I was going to poke Jared in the side until I annoyed him to death and he gave in. Give in he didn’t. He just took his foot, put it against my side and shoved me right off the bed. Laughter will kill an argument dead. Sometimes.

Speaking of dead.  I’m not sure what this says about as a couple, but one of our commonly used fight enders is, “When we die I’m going to drag you back to this moment so you can see I’m right.” Usually followed by, “Yeah, fine. We’ll see.”

Pretty much the first 5 years of afterlife if going to be spent showing each other exactly who said what, who did the dishes last, who ate the freaken cookie, etc, etc, etc. And don’t think we’re going to forget in 70 years from now when we both keel over. We may not remember who exactly failed to shut the bathroom door, but we’ll remember to check that we were right.

And one more winning move I pull out. 

Jared insists that all guys hate when their significant other chooses the car to talk it out. It makes him feel trapped. Like I plotted we would run out of all things edible the exact day of an argument so that he would be forced to listen to how I feel THE WHOLE FIFTEEN MINUTES it takes to get to the good grocery store. Uh, yeah, he’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Best part of arguing? Making up. Saw that coming, right? It's true. Such a relief to move past annoying your spouse to stealing food of their plate and giving googly eyes. 

Arguing sucks. Fess up humans. What are your bad fighting habits?