Marital Manipulation

Yesterday was a bickering day.

I know that you know what I’m talking about. Surely you and your spouse have days in which you simply can’t stop bickering about the most ridiculous things imaginable. Hubs and I just couldn’t keep the peace, mostly because the night before, he had made the mistake of calling me hormonal and I retaliated by calling him old. That pretty much ensured that both of us would remain a little bit pissed at each other for at least 24 hours.

By the next morning, I was tired of sniping back and forth and decided it was time to change my strategy. Generally, when Hubs says something annoying, I say something annoying right back to him; both of us have trouble giving each other the last word. This time, however, I decided to try a different strategy, one I remembered from a column I wrote for the Nashville Scene last year.

The idea, I’m ashamed to say, came from Fascinating Womanhood, a ridiculous guide to marriage in which women are instructed to be unswervingly submissive to their husbands, going so far as to act like little girls and use baby talk around them and to never, ever wear pants or engage in any kind of masculine activity, like mowing the lawn. I tried out the book’s advice for a week without telling Hubs and I have to admit, he seemed pretty happy. But I? Was not. I felt like a Stepford wife and couldn’t imagine living my entire life running around in a lace trimmed house dress, taking off my husband’s shoes when he got home from work, and acting like Shirley Freaking Temple in an effort to gain his favor. However, the book did have one nugget of wisdom among all the dung, as you shall see.

The next time Hubs got snippy yesterday, I promptly burst into tears. It wasn’t that hard; I really hate arguing. But it was entirely out of character for me to give into the urge to wail.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed in answer to the latest transgression he claimed I had committed. “I didn’t mean to keep telling you that it was time for a substitution during the soccer game! I don’t know what got into me!”

I cried some more, very prettily, I might add. And through my tears, I snuck a look at Hubs. He was thunderstruck. And then he said something I never thought I’d hear.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I had no idea you were so upset. Let’s just drop all this and have a good day together. Please don’t cry.”

I dried my tears and the rest of the day was wonderful.

I can’t believe I just told you this story, mostly because Hubs will now read it and it will never work again. Shit.

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.