When you get married, the bond is marital. When you have your first fight, it turns martial.
We had our first fight on our honeymoon. We were boating in the midst of Ooty Lake, my brand new husband rowing away, when I had one of my Saggi brainwaves.
“I want to row!”
My husband shook his head, something that always riles me.
“I want to row NOW!” I stood up and moved to the centre of the boat, which began rocking dangerously. The fight ended with me almost falling into the lake, and a golden lesson was learnt that day.
Fight only when you are on stable ground. Drowning is not the best thing to do on a honeymoon.
The next lesson came from my mom, once we were back home. Of course, I had to tell her about our fight, and instead of chiding me, she smiled, and remarked, “Fights are healthy, but don’t ever throw things at each other or break any bones. However, never go to bed angry at each other. Make up before you sleep!” Golden lesson number two had made its appearance.
When our adorable daughter, Priyanka, was born, we were like two kids with a doll. Parenting, we realized, was not easy, but it wasn’t rocket science either. So, while we read up on Dr, Spock (no, not the dude in ‘Star Trek’), we made our own rules as well. One discussion went thus:
Hubby dear introduced the topic. “Have you heard of Mutt and Jeff?”
“Huh?” was my not-very intelligent response.
He pondered for a moment, and then explained. Only one of us would yell at Priyanka at a time. The other would apply balm on her wounded pride.
Golden rule three had been established.