How to Structure a Marital Dispute in Six Simple Steps

Earlier this month, the husband and I celebrated our six-year wedding anniversary. Six years! Celebration is kind of an ambitious word for what we actually did. We spent most of the day doing what we always do - whatever the toddler terrorist wants - and then went to the fancy pants movie theater in Del Mar where I could park my giant pregnant behind in a comfy recliner, kick up my swollen ankles and order ice cream in the privacy of a dark theater without fear of judgment. Sexy, I know.

I wasn't really sure what to write about to honor six years of this married union. I could talk about his cute dimples or how proud I am of the life we have built together, but hey. I'm not one for the sap. He'd think I had been kidnapped and replaced by a sweet spouse who spouts platitudes. So, as I was cooking dinner one night and feeling irritable, I thought about how in six years we have learned to structure our arguments into six simple steps. What a coincidence! When spending a lifetime together, couples fall into a comfortable routine that can be oh so predictable. In our case, we have created our own Fight Club rule book to which we strictly adhere. Here is the structure of a good Greene domestic dispute:

1. The Spark
Like any good display of pyrotechnics, it has to begin with a spark. A flash. A bang. In our case, it often begins with some innocuous comment. Something innocent with no implication of malice, yet somehow, after a day of toddler tantrums, workplace weariness and overall exhaustion it becomes the spark that ignites a colorful display of unholy matrimony.
"Hey honey, I stopped by the store and got your butter..."
"MY BUTTER? Why is it MY butter? Do you not eat butter? Are you calling me fat? I'll show you YOUR butter..."

2. The Backpedal
Inevitably, once the the fuse has been lit, trying to avoid an explosion is futile. However, in desperate times, one must at least try to diffuse the volatile situation. Damage control goes into full effect. Stammering and stumbling backward, hands held up in surrender, the backpedaling begins.
"N-n-no, I didn't mean YOUR butter, I meant OUR butter! Come on babe, you're beautiful, I love you, um, I think I left something out in my truck...I think the tiny terrorist needs me..."And with the the grace of a roadrunner chased by the coyote, a sign is held up that simply reads Uh Oh and with a poof of dust and a sound strikingly similar to a meep meep! He's gone.

3. The Slow Simmer 
Like a teapot beginning to steam, the slow simmer begins. It starts with a simple how dare he. The brain then begins to reach into the dusty files stored in the back office of the memory, stashed away only to be brought out simply for occasions such as these. The time he left his socks on the floor? What a jerk! Or how about that annoying habit he has of always leaving his clothes in the dryer so I end up folding them?! Grrrr. And how about the way he stares at me blankly while I babble on about my feelings on [insert any topic here]? Oh man. The water is now boiling, and the kettle begins to whistle shrilly.

4. The Game On
As this step implies, the heavyweights are ready to throw down. Get your ringside seating, a couple of beers and some popcorn because this is going to get interesting. You might have to get out your toddler to adult dictionary translator, however, because we are going to be arguing in sickeningly sweet voices, hushed tones and code words since we don't want the toddler to know she is witnessing a Vegas-worthy clash of titans. Hello, we're not animals. It's an epic battle of the sexes disguised as a United Nations negotiation, punctuated every so often by a silly face made at the toddler terrorist or a pause between rounds to serve the toddler dinner or tie a shoe.

5. The Insult to Injury
There comes a point in every argument where someone starts to laugh. It's usually me, as I have made an outlandish statement so obnoxious that even I can't take myself seriously. This is a dangerously deceiving moment because my worthy opponent takes this as a prime opportunity to lower the gloves, towel off the sweat and innocently say, "I don't even know what you are so upset about, anyway!"
Really? Because I literally just spent the entire last hour outlining exactly why I was mad. I was even kind enough to illustrate his shortcomings with diagrams, examples, evidence and exuberant hand gestures. So, just like that, the bell rings for round 2 and it's time to place bets on which spouse is going to receive the proverbial knockout punch.

6. The White Flag of Surrender
And then, the beauty of marriage emerges. Both fighters retire to their corner of the couch, exhausted and over it. We settle on some mind-numbing television show and without even noticing, I eventually wiggle my cold toes under his leg to keep warm and he affectionately puts his hand on my knee and just like that, wedded bliss.

Until next time.