Biff and my doctor friend have (somewhat) gentle ways of opening my eyes to things. I’m not saying their opinions are always on point because they’re the same ones who claim Dirty Dancing isn’t a good movie, but this time I’m going to err on the side of caution and accept their not-so-subtle criticism, which is:

My blogs sound as though PJ and I never fight.

Well haha suckers … we don’t!

But … because I don’t want to appear as “The Lovebirds” from my old church days (see my Peace be with you, Tiffany blog entry for reference), I feel like it’s my duty to shed some light on that.

The ONLY reason we don’t fight is because he lets a lot of stuff go when it comes to me. If he wasn’t so chill we’d be fighting all the time. Why? Because I’m a lover AND a fighter. (What do you expect? I’m Irish, Italian, and a Scorpio ☘️ 🇮🇹 ♏️ 😈)

But when he does get mad, that’s when I know I’ve crossed a line. Then I have to crawl to him with my tail between my legs, usually admitting I’m a jackass.

However, when 5 people are living in the same house together 24/7, tensions are bound to boil over at some point, and our most recent tiff went like this:

Side note: The definition of a Tiff is: a petty quarrel, usually between friends or lovers. How ironic is that?

I was cleaning the kitchen because BQ (Before Quarantine) I thought laundry was my life sentence, but now DQ (During Quarantine), I’ve discovered my new life sentence is crumbs. If I ever go missing, you will find me buried under a pile of crumbs.

So I’m wiping off the island and PJ walks in. I’m in a mood and find it necessary to inform him that it’s very annoying that whenever I’m in the kitchen he has to follow me in there.

Him: “Yeah ok.”

Then he puts the cereal box on the island and I yell, “Stop! Can’t you see I’m cleaning the island?!” He moves the box to the other counter and doesn’t say a word.

Then I’m zipping around the island; spraying and wiping, as he’s preparing his cereal.

Because he couldn’t wait 2 MINUTES for me to finish and then get the milk, he’s behind me at the refrigerator and backs into me and elbows me.

Me: “WHAT THE FUCK???!!!”

Him: “I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE BEHIND ME!”

Me: “YOU ELBOWED ME AND IT HURT!”

Him: “YES, I MEANT TO ELBOW YOU AND HURT YOU! HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WERE BEHIND ME?”

Me: “WHY ARE YOU EVEN IN HERE ANYWAY?????!!!!!”

The kids were out of the room and (I thought) oblivious to this entire altercation, but then my oldest comes to the stairs in his underwear, (he hates clothes and no matter how many times we tell him to get dressed, he always ends up in only his underwear and they’re usually backwards) and asks, “What’s going on? Why are you screaming?”

I couldn’t help myself and said, “Because Daddy’s being annoying.”

He says, “Oh, I thought you were yelling at them.” pointing toward the room my other boys were in.

This goes to show that he wasn’t traumatized by his parents fighting, he just wanted to make sure he didn’t miss his brothers getting in trouble.

So yeah, this is a typical fight between me and PJ. This time I didn’t apologize because he really was being annoying.

We’re definitely not The Lovebirds, but yesterday was our 14th wedding anniversary, so we must be doing something right ❤️