My wife and I rarely argue. By rarely I mean so little we have tales built around them.
While we do not argue there is a place of shopping that engenders dynamic friction which, in the early years of our marriage, we had not discovered a way to obviate.
That place is a DIY store.
The crux of the issue is twofold. Firstly we have different tastes. Secondly, we shop differently.
When discussing things our tastes don't seem so far apart, because we love each other and mold our desires towards compatibility.
But when this is, was, exposed to the harsh reality of shopping the fault lines between our preferences opened. This was exacerbated between our differing methods of shopping which can be described as my 'We came for these items', and my wife's 'Let's check each aisle'.
Here is one tale of the issues this caused.
We were married about 22 months and expecting our first child. Lizza was maybe 8 months pregnant. Our bed required the slats repairing, for the second time, and we went to the DIY store (B&Q) to get the necessary material.
I can't remember how the argument began, but it built to the point that when we got back to the car I was left to load our purchases while Lizza stormed off to make her own way home.
We lived in Edinburgh at the time. Our home was a flat (apartment) on Easter Road. The B&Q was on Newcraighall Road. The distance between the two is more than an 8 month pregnant woman would want to be walking (especially as this was late-December or early-January). And walking was the only option as Lizza had left her purse in the car, so had no cash or card - this being the 'before days' when mobile phones were rare and apps non-existent. If you had no cash or card you couldn't pay for a taxi or bus, and we didn't have a mobile phone so she couldn't call friend or family.
I loaded the car and sat waiting until Lizza climbed into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and suggested I should get on with taking us home.
Once home she sat herself in the front room, while I set about repairing the bed.
I'm not a great DIY person, and back then was even worse. Knowing the repairs would take time I'd moved our TV to the bedroom before we went out, because there was Rugby on that afternoon. While I couldn't sit back and watch it at leisure, I sure wanted to be able to look up when something exciting was happening.
The bed fixing was going fine, and the rugby had begun, when I became aware of someone in the doorway of the bedroom.
Lizza had sat stewing in the front room, but then realized that not only was I not an incarnation of evil set on ruining her life, but she also wanted to watch the rugby.
First she sat watching, eventually she stuck her head round the door and asked if we were okay.
I had been confused as to why the argument flared so her cautious rapprochement found no push back, and normal relations resumed.
The memory of this came to me earlier today but before I wrote them down I checked with Lizza as to the veracity of my recollection. She confirmed they were correct.
While we laugh now, indeed we had reconciled by the days end, at the time the argument was so profound as to feel catastrophic.
In the early years of a relationship such an event may easily feel thus. Working out the differences which arise between two different people coming together and meshing their personalities and preferences and family cultures will lead to conflict.
The love that brought us together allowed us a way to work a way through them.
This year we will celebrate 25 years married.
words by stuartcturnbull, art by thommas68 and Clker-Free-Vector-Imageson Pixabay