Chris and I have had some silly arguments, some serious arguments, and some arguments that just don't make sense when you look back and evaluate. I suppose some would consider us to fight a lot; and to others we probably don't fight that much. We tend to argue over small, non-trivial issues.
Take for example a "tiff" we had in the grocery store about buying gravy mix or making your own gravy. I prefer to make my own gravy but Chris really wanted me to just buy the mix. I was in school at the time, and working full time, and he was trying to make my life simpler. I, however, was trying to be the frugal one (keep in mind here folks, that gravy mix costs what...$2 at most?). What he didn't realize that the time is that cooking is my little "me" time. Yes, sometimes I'd just rather go out to eat or order take out. But there is something therapeutic about cooking and knowing that you made that darn gravy yourself! In looking back at this silly argument, I know my husband was only acting out of love for me. He was trying to protect me from doing more than what I needed to do. I only wish that I could have realized this while the argument was taking place- in the middle of Reasors! I think this is the story for most of our arguments. If you take a good honest look at the situation, one of us is usually trying to help the other person. But I suppose pride just gets in the way thus resulting in the birth of a fight.
One fight that does not fit into this category though, is the story of our first fight.
Our first real "fight" falls into the SILLY category (this should really be the default category for most fights). It was about something that girls have, girls use, and I guess boys don't discuss: SPORTS BRAS. Yes, you heard me right, a sports bra- the girl equivalent of a cup for baseball or pads for football. You just can't perform well without it!
So we were at his parents house getting ready to go for a run. He is in a bedroom changing and I am in the bathroom. Midway through changing, I realized that I forgot "it". So I go tap on the door and tell him about forgetting "it". This is where Chris' blood starts to boil. I am still unsure if he was uncomfortable or embarrassed, or some other indescribable emotion- but he was not pleased with me. You see, his little brother and dad were in the living room just a few feet away. So on our walk and afterwards we discuss me using the words "sports bra". He tells me, "it's just not something we talk about in our house!" to which I reply "Of course you don't! You, your brothers and your dad have probably suppressed your mom from talking about anything girly!"
Eventually, I guess he just got over it and the mention of "it".
And that is the story of our first fight. Silly, isn't it?