Throwback Thursday: The Great Milkshake Meltdown

I would love to sit here and tell you that my wife and I never ever fight. I could lie and say that we are both extremely rational human beings who scoff at the idea of getting irrationally angry at the other person. But alas, that is not what this blog is about. 

If I had to choose one of the quotes that truly defines my relationship with my wife, it would be this quote from The Notebook: "They didn't agree on much. In fact, they rarely agreed on anything. They fought all the time, and they challenged each other every day. But despite their differences, they had one important thing in common. They were crazy about each other."

So, yes, like all normal couples - we do fight. Fortunately, they never last long. Take the other day for example. My wife was angry because I broke our window shades (I'm sorry honey, but I just can't control my super strength). She was annoyed at me for being "careless" and at the same time, I was annoyed at her for caring so much about stupid window shades. She put on her stern voice and began to lecture me about how I had to be more careful with things that are so "delicate." At this point, the scowls left both of our faces and at the same time we shouted "DELICATE" in the voice that it's said in the background of the Taylor Swift song (if you don't know what I'm talking about, click here and go to 1:12 or 2:22) and this is how the majority of our fights seem to go. Even when I'm having those times of the month where I would do anything to keep fighting (you know what time I'm talking about), I can't ever seem to stay angry for long. 

So anyway, today I am going to tell you the story of my favorite fight I ever had with my wife. Is it weird to have a favorite fight? I don't really care, because my wife would totally agree that The Great Milkshake Meltdown of 2014 was epic. 

It was a crisp fall day in 2014 and I believe Michelle and I were riding back from a visit to my parent's house. I'm not sure what the fight was actually about, but I wanted to talk it out while Michelle did not. It is my nature to want to over-talk everything, while Michelle would rather just forget it even happened. I wasn't having it on this day though. Since I had her trapped in the car (her only option being to tuck and roll out), I was pushing her to talk. For someone sitting just a few feet away from me, she was doing a pretty good job of pretending I wasn't even there.

That was, until she decided she wanted a milkshake and started to search for the closest Burger King. She finally acknowledged me to tell me that there was a Burger King just a mile down the road and we should stop to get a milkshake to which I responded, "If you won't talk to me, I'm not getting you a milkshake!" To her surprise, when the Burger King came into view, I drove right past it. 

"Seriously!?" she shouted from the passenger seat. I gave her a smug smile and shrugged my shoulders. "You wouldn't talk this out. I told you that I wouldn't stop if you refused to talk it out with me." With that, she turned to me with a look that was a combination of deep hurt and red-hot anger and very sincerely huffed, "This is by far the most mean thing you have EVER done to me." 

I found myself shocked at her response and actually feeling bad (I mean, come on, this girl was seriously distraught over her milkshake). We were both quiet until we pulled onto the turnpike and I saw a sign for a rest stop that had a Burger King. I sighed audibly, knowing I was about to give in. "I'll stop at this rest stop and get you one," I conceded. I expected my wife to be happy about this, but instead she crossed her arms in front of her and scowled over at me. "I don't even want it anymore."

If I was a guy, I may have believed this, but I'm a lesbian so I know how a girl's mind works. There was no way that I wasn't getting that milkshake. After I parked, she shook her head at me. "I don't know why you're doing this. I'm not going to drink it," she threatened. I laughed to myself as I made my way inside and bought the chocolate milkshake topped off with whipped cream. 

Once back on the road, I watched the milkshake out of the corner of my eye. For a good 15 minutes, it sat melting in the cup holder, until I watched a hand slowly creep toward it. My wife pulled it to her mouth and tried to take a sip as quietly as possible. I looked over at her, the straw still hanging from her lips, and we both stared at each other, before bursting into laughter. 

I couldn't tell you if we ever talked about whatever it was that I wanted to discuss, but I can tell you that we got past it, just like we've gotten through every other struggle. In relationships, you're going to fight about money, mother-in-laws, and even milkshakes. It's unavoidable. But what's important is that you come out on the other side laughing about it, with a little more love in your heart for your significant other. 


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