Home » Life Lesson: The DUMBEST Argument EVER!

Life Lesson: The DUMBEST Argument EVER!

I think it’s well established that I’m a little um particular about things. . .

Ok. . .

You got me.  I’m a type-A, control freak. . .

And I’d probably be a perfectionist too if I weren’t so damned lazy.  . .

Anyway, I am.  I just am.  This is what I do.  . .

And I like to do it MY way.

I work diligently to be flexible.  I do.  I try not to get all worked up about things.  I honestly am, despite my crazed tendencies, actually highly non-confrontational so I try to pick my battles.


Like that sometime a few weekends ago when my Husband had the audacity to help with “my” household chores.

It was NOT pretty.

He’s a morning person.  I am not.  So on the weekends, he’s often up hours before me.  Yes.  Hours.  And while I’m not a morning person, it’s not like I’m sleeping until even 8 AM the majority of the time. . . He gets up at 4 damned 30 in the morning!

And when he gets awake, there are all these things that need addressed around the house:  dishwasher, laundry, cat boxes. . .

It’s stuff I do every morning when he’s at work but I had definitely hinted that perhaps he could help me out sometimes on the weekends since he’s already awake and all. . .

He was more than willing to help.

Except, he wanted to do those chores in the EVENING.

YES!  As in the night before. . .GASP!

This way, he reasoned, his chores would be out of the way and he could have his mornings quiet to do. . . I don’t know?  What the mother effiing bleep hell does someone do at 4:30AM?

And this idea?  The idea of doing the chores in the evening. . .IT MADE ME COMPLETELY OUT OF MY SKULL ANNOYED ANGRY.

“Um, you’re saying you want to scoop the cat box in the evening?  And do all the laundry too?” I asked swallowing hard.

“Yes.  Then I can help you but my mornings will be free.  I won’t have to think about doing nagging chores.”

“No.  No.  It’s not going to work.  I do those chores in the morning and everything will get all off the schedule if you start running the dishwasher and doing laundry at odd times.  I’m sorry.  Just no.  I’ll just do them myself.  You don’t have to worry about them.  I don’t want my routine messed with.”

“You’re being crazy!” He responded a little more forcefully than I was expecting.  “I’m trying to help and you’re just being difficult because you only want things your way!”

“Look, it’s not about having things only my way.” I shot back loudly.  Maybe it is?  I have no idea at this point?   “I don’t come to your office and tell you how to do your job do I?  This is my office.  This is my work and I should get to decide when it gets done (and how).”

“I cannot believe you’re arguing about this, I want to help with the chores.  Why won’t you let me?”

Because your help is going to cause Monday to be a complete fucking mess for me. . .and maybe even Tuesday. . .

“BECAUSE it’s important this stuff gets done on a 24-hour cycle and I don’t want to have a situation where I’m short of diapers or something because we change things up every weekend just so you can have your QUIET TIME IN THE MORNING!  Your job is to go to work.  You do enough around here.  Let me worry about the chores!  Or maybe what you’re saying is, I’m not doing a good job with the chores?  Is that it?  Before I know it you’ll be saying you do EVERYTHING and I’m lazy and horrible and you’ll want a divorce!  And you’ll get a really good attorney. . .likely one of my best friends and they’ll allege I intentionally impovrished myself raising our kids. . .and. . .GASP.  Hell.  NO!”

“Divorce?  Is that what you want?  You were quick to bring that up.”

“Stop yelling.  I don’t WANT a divorce.  I’m done speaking with you.  I’m not going to have this stupid argument in front of our children.”

“It is dumb.  You’re being dumb.  I’m offering to help with the household chores and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Lalalalalala, I’m ignoring you.”

“DENI!  You’re a control freak!”

“STOP YELLING AT ME! Look at Mac. . .Stop it.  Stop it right now.  PLEASE!”



And I stomped off the the basement to get away from him because I really didn’t think we needed to scream at one another in front of our children.  I think it’s okay for them to see us disagree or work through a problem but CONSTRUCTIVELY.  And we were definitely NOT being constructive.

And then, because I was irked out of my mind,  I screamed at him that if he really wanted to help he could scrub the upstairs toilet.

 I’m so annoyed.  What IS his problem?  Why is this such a big deal?  Maybe it’s not a big deal?  Maybe you should let him do what he wants.  Don’t they say it’s better to be happy than “right”?  But you won’t be happy because he’s never going to be able to stay awake long enough at night to get all the laundry done and then you’ll be stuck with it anyway. . .AT NIGHT!  Night time is MY time.  I like having the evening to do things I want.  This is the dumbest argument I’ve ever had.  He’s offering help and I’m resisting why?  Because it’s not exactly HELP if he shoots the routine to hell.

“Chris, you’re right.” I said to him as I watched him fumble around with a toilet brush,  “I shouldn’t argue about when the litter box gets scooped.  Just do what you want.  I appreciate your help.”


Did that just come out of my mouth?  Oh gawd I’m screwed.

“NO!  No!  Do it your way!  I’m not going to mess with your ‘office’.”



“Hey, how did it feel when you heard your parents arguing?  Bad right?  What kind of example are we setting?”

He gave me a sulky look and resumed scrubbing the toilet.  AND he continued to sulk for another 15 hours or so. . .just long enough to ruin the better part of a weekend.

Well played, idiot parents. . .well played.

The next morning, we apologized to Mac and Teddy for losing our cool for the past 24 hours.  . .And much later that day, poor Chris nearly fell asleep on a mountain of laundry.

Since then?

I’m still mostly “in charge” of the litter box and the dishwasher.  But I’ve pretty much handed over laundry duty to Chris. . .

Mostly so I can gloat watching him struggle to stay awake while folding it. . .




ERR. . .pick your battles, let it go, don’t argue in front of your children. . .

Puh-leeeeeeessssee DO NOT make this mortify-ing.  Too late.  Jerks.

Puh-leeeeeeessssee DO NOT make this mortifying. Too late. Jerks.







2 Responses to “Life Lesson: The DUMBEST Argument EVER!”

  1. richardmax22 says:

    When I was married to the mother of our three children, we got in a yelling matches quite often. Right in the midst of one of them our oldest son, who was about 6 at the time, ran into the room while covering his ears and screamed “Quit fighting!” And then ran back to his bedroom. That tore me up so bad that I never again got in a fight with my wife while the children were around…And guess what, that woman used it to her full advantage. Divorcing her some 30 years ago was the best thing I ever did simply because she refused to contemplate the very reason for your post. Kudos, girl!

    • admin says:


      Chris and I get along really well almost always. So it’s really something out of the ordinary when we actually get into a passionate disagreement and raise our voices. Our “yelling” isn’t anything compared to the yelling I recall my own parents engaging in. . .But I KNOW it’s still upsetting to our children – and the last thing I want is for them to feel scared or confused in their own home.

      On the other hand, I think it’s very valuable for the kids to see us work through our differences calmly and rationally. . .That’s a life skill they’re going to need.