I absolutely hate arguing with my husband. Unfortunately, we are imperfect beings living in an imperfect world, and anytime you put two personalities together for an extended period of time, there's bound to be some friction at some point. While I hate when it happens, I like when it ends this way:
I don't even remember what the argument was over, but I wish I would have had a camera in my hand when I opened the door for him (he had gone to get a few groceries), and he was standing there bogged down with grocery bags and flowers. Somehow any hard feelings that were there just melted away. Weird how that happens.
That guy was raised by a good man : )
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