lettuce_stop_arguing tender_square “what’s going on?” he asked. he removed his headphones, shifted his laptop elsewhere on the bed. “i just came in here to say thank you for driving me to my appointment, for picking up dinner and for doing the dishes and i wanted to give you a kiss before i sat down to write.” he looked almost suspicious of her. “are you okay?” “i’m just bummed,” he said. “about the stuff from earlier?” he nodded. after coming home from their walk they had two small disagreements. he’d asked her if their grocery order was ready for pickup because he didn’t want to take off all his winter gear if they had to leave the house again. as she was checking her phone for texts from the store, he kept calling out to her for an update and she didn’t answer; the message she’d received was about low stock on an item she wanted, a type of message she hadn’t gotten before and she was figuring out how to navigate the menu. he asked her to answer and she snapped that she was in the midst of working through it. “i didn’t know!” he’d been wounded by her tone. “you weren’t answering me.” “you may as well take your stuff off, it’s not ready,” she’d said. as she was eating lunch a short while later, he came into the living room. “so, are we going to pick up the order when you’re done?” “i figured we could wait until before we had to go to my dental appointment to get it, that way we don’t have to be out of the house twice.” he seemed irked by her suggestion, it was clear he didn’t want to do things that way. he claimed that if they had picked up the groceries before her appointment, he’d have to drive home to drop them off—an extra trip he was unwilling to take. she didn’t see it that way; the groceries could stay in the car, it was cold outside. after she cleared her plate, she conceded her position. she put her boots and parka back on and waited at the front door with her wallet and phone as he took his time brushing his teeth. when he left the bathroom, she asked, somewhat impatiently, “are you ready to go?” he was surprised to see her ready and tried to backpedal. “we don’t have to go if you’re wanting to go later.” but by this point she was already dressed and not going would’ve aggravated her more. and so, they left for the store. while they idled in the parking lot she said, “you know, you really could’ve left the groceries in the car; it’s only lettuce we’re getting. i’d understand if we had meat, or fish, or eggs, but produce would’ve been fine to sit for an hour.” he still claimed otherwise. when they arrived back home, she could tell he was irked. “what’s the issue?” “i’m tired of fighting over the smallest things,” he sighed. she was too. in the bathroom, she cried as she brushed her teeth and asked herself if this was what their marriage was going to become: pointless fights that slowly chipped away the love they had for each other until there was nothing left. why were the smallest issues tumultuous between them? were the fights emblematic of something deeper at the root of what they shared? “you know, you’re not the only one who is bothered by this,” she admitted. “it’s good to know that i’m not alone in that.” “i don’t know how we fix it.” her admittance shifted the conversation into new territory. “you’re never around,” he said. “we spent time together in the same house and i feel like i never see you.” “that’s not true,” she began. “i feel like we see each other all the time.” “oh, i see you for twenty minutes at lunch and i see you for twenty minutes before bed.” “you see me at breakfast; we hang out during lunches sometimes,” she could tell she wasn’t making the compelling case she thought she was. “i’m not saying that’s enough if you feel that we should be doing things together more. but i’m not as freewheeling with my time as you are. what is it that you would like us to be doing together?” “i’ve made suggestions before, you weren’t into them.” “what? do you mean the french thing?” “yeah,” he said. “but i don’t want to get into all the reasons why you didn’t want to do it.” as they spoke, it was nearing five o’clock; she had mentioned to him earlier that she’d planned to do more writing at that time. getting her dental appointment arranged and having to deal with insurance that morning derailed her regular schedule and productivity. and while part of her felt guilty for suspending their discussion, another part of her wanted him to respect the fact that she had planned to work. (why should her being at her desk be seen as any different than if she was working outside of their home?) “can we continue this conversation when i’m done writing?” she watched him shut down at that suggestion. “are you okay if i do that?” she kicked herself for trying to get him to accept her choice; she didn’t need his approval, and she needed to live with him being upset when she followed through on decisions that were important to her. when she sat at her desk writing, she found herself googling, “why do couples fight when they never used to before?” 220111 what's it to you? who go blather from