Fight! FIght! FIght! Fight!

So, a couple weeks ago, my wife and I got into a fight.

She would lob scream grenades my way.

I would run behind the couch and duck for cover.

She would aim rapid-fire machine-gun tirades towards my eardrums.

I would dive behind the refrigerator and wait for the shelling to stop.

For some stupid reason the conversation turned to our freedom as individuals outside of being parents.

Then there was a brief silence. I decided to make my move.

"Well," I shouted to the rooftops. "I don't get to do everything I want in this world!"

"Really?" she asked crossing her arms already awaiting a response. "Now, please. Tell me. What don't you get to do?"

I thought really, really hard. I searched up and down my memory banks for the perfect answer.

Then, it hit me. It was the mother lode!!!

"Well if you must know," I retorted. "I really don't get to go to Cedar Point or attend carnivals as much as I would like to."

She rolled her eyes, uncrossed her arms, and walked out of the room.

Victory was mine that day.

Victory was mine.