When my husband and I have a “heated discussion”, we always try to fight with the utmost of maturity.
Just the other day, it was getting hot and heavy in the vehicle (and NOT because the heat was on...and definitely NOT because we were getting it on!) and things just happened to come to a climax during a red light at an intersection.
After obviously having enough “discussion” time, in a very mature and calm manner, my husband grabbed his things and hopped out of the truck.
It also just so happened that we were traveling out of town which posed a bit of a dilemma for me. You see, I was feeling “the love” at that moment too (please note the high levels of sarcasm here) and didn’t really mind that I would be traveling alone from that moment on. So, the light turned green and I did what any wife who was equally crazy for and driven crazy by their husband would do: I left. I’m not completely heartless, of course, I did glance in the rear-view mirror to make sure the love-of-my-life made it out of traffic and safety on his way...whatever way that would be! The truth was, at that moment, I didn’t really care if we were traveling in Europe and he would have to hitchhike his way home on an ocean-liner.
Needless to say, the fresh air for him and the empty passenger seat for me were both welcome breaks from our, uh-hum, “heated discussion”.
Perfect we are NOT.
My husband did hitch a ride back home that night. And I made it home that night too.
Of course, I brought along a weather-front that would rival the arctic chill of the Bering Sea. The heated discussion had progressed (or REgressed may be more accurate!) to a chilly stand-off and the good Lord knows, I would NOT be the first to break. If it meant I had to take a vow of silence or duct-tape my mouth shut, there was NO way on God’s green earth that I would say two words to that..that...MAN. That man I married, the father of my children, my most-of-the-time bestest friend...and sometimes my worst-est enemy!
The battle lines were drawn: he may be bigger and stronger than me but everyone has to sleep sometime.
Speaking of sleeping, the couch was not as comfortable as I had envisioned when I dragged the comforter and pillows off our bed that night (with MUCH loud huffing that was accompanied by icy looks of death). So, at 4 am, once I heard the enemy sleeping, I snuck back into MY bed and slept in comfort once again (I accidentally brushed his leg during this risky encounter and immediately built a enormous pillow-wall to prevent further deadly encounters with the enemy).
Much to my shock, I awoke at 7 am the next morning to discover my husband SNUGGLING with me. What was this? A truce?! A white flag of surrender!? A hand of peace?! This act of valor on his part was definitely scoring some brownie points but I was still operating under a vow of silence and, difficult as it was becoming with every (secret) glance at those deep brown, twinkling eyes of his, I had to go on! I could not give in, not yet! Not with so much to...so much to...gain!?
What was I thinking?!
I had been a fool and was wasting precious time. Me and my man are on a mission, a mission to further God’s kingdom, a mission to raise godly children (who were currently learning from such wonderful role-models!!) and I was being distracted by a war that was battling over...nothing. A civil war that was fighting against itself. Silly me.
Perfect we are NOT!!
That night, after watching my man play baseball with my boys (in his cute baseball cap with that crooked smile!), I felt myself caving! I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to wave the white flag as well!
When my husband and I fight, we always do so with the utmost of maturity. Okay, the truth is, we can be pretty silly and immature when we fight. But, the good Lord knows that it’s only a matter of time (and usually never more than one uncomfortable night spent on the couch) when I’m NOT sleeping with the enemy...
but rather sleeping with my bestest friend.