The Surprising Ingredient that Made My Relationship Flourish
Wait, we’re not arguing? Something must be wrong…
I grew up with parents who argued…a lot.
I mean genuine screaming matches that almost seemed to shake the foundations of the house. My mother screeching out of hysteric frustration, my father’s grumbling revving up to a fever pitch like a rusted engine given the oiled elixir of blood-red anger.
My brother and I kept ourselves distracted enough with video games and music to let the family feud play out in the background like the faint crackling of old vinyl. It was just a fact of life, something as seemingly natural as anything else in our young lives. Trees grew from the ground, the sky was blue and black and sometimes grey, school sucked, skateboards were cool, Nintendo was awesome, dinner was ready, and Mom and Dad argued. It wasn’t some kind of “bad day” occurrence, it happened with such frequency that it wasn’t concerning. We never thought to ourselves, “I wonder what’s wrong,” as the reasons for it were irrelevant. They argued in the same way an old house creaks, and I knew to stay clear of the screams in the same way I knew where to put my feet on the steps so as to not make them groan as I snuck downstairs for some late-night Playstation.
