Yogurt

Eunjoo throws a plate of fruit at me. It's all diced up, so it doesn't hurt, but her meaning is clear. She is angry. Or I'm not getting enough fibre. Or I'm sitting in her yogurt. I look down and realise it is the last of these.

"Get out of my yogurt!" she yells.

"Get your yogurt off my chair!" I counter.

"Get your chair off the table!"

"Get your table out of my office!"

"Get your office out of the kitchen!"

She's got me. There doesn't seem to be anywhere to go from here. I start to sweat, sensing my imminent defeat. Its been a long time since I've lost a fight. Fights are important in a marriage. They are its main measure. Winning fights is the only way to know that you are winning the marriage. If I give up, I am giving up the upper hand in my relationship; I am losing at life.

I look around for hints. Where could the kitchen be to justify my office being there? I pull a blank. I'm about to concede. Concede the fight. Concede my dominance. And then it comes to me, "Who eats their yogurt in the kitchen anyways?"

"I do Mark." me wife says, stifling a sob, "You know I do. I always have."

She cries first. So I win. Those are the rules. I console her, saying it was a fight well fought.