Apology Number One:
I’m sorry I got mad and threw a cup at you that time.
If you are going to fight with me in the middle of the night, it’s probably best to assume that my lack of healthy arguing mechanisms, combined with how grumpy I am when I am tired, are going to add up to my throwing a cup at you.
Apology Number Two:
I’m sorry that cup hit our closet door and now there is a hole in it. It’s probably safe to say that no one is going to think that that is what the hole is from, but you never know.
Apology Number Three:
I’m sorry I threw a cup at you again. Well, does it really count as a cup if it was a water bottle that filters water?
Either way, I’m sorry we were fighting in the middle of the night in the kitchen. It’s probably best to apply the rules from apology number one to all rooms of the house and all instances when cups might be present. Also, we need to be sure we have lots of plastic cups.
Apology Number Four:
I’m sorry I threw your clothes in the hall.
Really, I think we have long since established that riling me up and then refusing to end the fight when I say I’m done fighting is not the best choice. But I shouldn’t have thrown all your clothes in the hall.
Apology Number Five:
I’m sorry I locked you out of the bedroom that time I threw all your clothes in the hall.
And all those other times.
Apology Number Six:
I’m sorry I hung up on you. And then kept hanging up on you, every time you called back.
I should mention that fighting on the phone would be much easier if we could still slam the recievers down when we hang up on people. It’s far too easy to assume the call dropped. But you should probably make a mental note that if I hang up three times in a row, the call isn’t dropped, I’m hanging up on you.
Apology Number Seven:
I’m sorry I sent you that angry email. Frankly, I don’t like to send angry emails, but you should also start to assume that if you refuse to talk about stuff, I’m gonna email you, then get mad all over again as I write, and so you will end up with an angry email in your inbox.
We should probably start exploring ideas for how to get around the angry email phase of fighting.
Apology Number Eight:
I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment. All the time. Constantly.
I feel that it is the best alternative to cup throwing and door locking, but I know it makes you angry.
Apology Number Nine:
I’m sorry I ate all your good snacks while you were in the field.
Maybe not really an apology about fighting, but something I think should be said none the less.
Apology Number Ten:
I’m sorry for writing this in a blog post. But, frankly, our fighting habits are rather funny and if we can both laugh about all this after the fact, when we are no longer angry, I’m sure other people will laugh with us.
We are lucky we think we are so funny…