Stupid Arguments: The Marriage Edition

My wife and I have some of the stupidest arguments on the face of the planet.

We don't argue a lot. We're pretty much on the same page about most of the things that make for big, nasty arguments: sex, money, children. So when we argue, it's usually because we're not quite well - tired or sick or both. And those arguments tend to be about stupid little things.

Two nights ago, in the midst of the Horrible Tummy Bug From Outer Space... and let me tell you, "Tummy Bug" seems like such an inadequate name for this thing. It needs something more Lovecraftian, like "Stkrulik". Or maybe something from Beowulf: "Karkainon, the Belly Render".

Anyway, it's Tuesday night. Wife was sick last Thursday, and is still recovering. The baby was sick Sunday night and most of Monday. Firstborn was sick from about mid-morning Tuesday until he finally passed out on the couch Tuesday night. And I'm pretty sure I'm next: I've already passed out for a bit, and while the gastro-intestinal symptoms haven't hit (yet), I do not feel well. But I've taken the baby, so that the Beautiful Woman can transfer one last load of laundry and brush her teeth. It's a little after nine o'clock, so the baby is due to fall asleep any time now. I am walking in circles around the kitchen table, holding the baby while he thrashes around, and waiting for him to nod off.

At one point, it looks like he has fallen asleep, so I take him into the bedroom and try to pass him off to my wife. At this point, he starts wiggling around: a baby who has no intention of sleeping when there's all this good exploring to be done first. So I start to take the baby back, and the next thing I know my wife is all, "I'll take him, you go lay down and sleep." She's cranky because I've brought her a baby who isn't ready to sleep.

So of course I'm now determined to take that baby back and finish the job: "No, I'll take him, you just lay here while I walk in circles."

"No. Go. To. Bed. I'll walk the baby around."

"I've got him." (I did, by this point.) "Shoo. Go lie down. Get some rest."

The Beautiful Woman finally grumps back off to her room. I, meanwhile, continue my circuit of the kitchen table, bleary-eyed and uncomfortable, but determined. The baby bucks and twists, trying to grab... well, anything, pretty much.

(And, of course, fifteen minutes later the baby actually is asleep on my shoulder, and I take him back in the bedroom and put him down. Because as it happens, I am just. that. good.)

My all-time favorite argument, though, was the one where we were walking through Target. We'd had a disagreement over lyrics. On my side: "Lovin' would be easy if your colours were like my dreams, red gold and green." On her side: "Lovin' would be easy if your colours were like my dreams. They're golden dreams." So of course we're wandering around...
Me: "Red, gold, and green."
Her: "Golden dreams. It makes more sense."
Me: "And yet, it is wrong. It's 'red, gold, and green'."
Her: "But that's stupid."
Me: "But that is the way the song goes."
Innocent Bystander: {gapes at us in disbelief}

...So now, if that particular song comes on, I feel compelled to sing along: "They're golden dreams!" It really does make more sense that way.