Funny Guy Friday... For better or worse... but not for renovating...

    I, Mark, take you, Cheryl, to be my lawfully wedded wife... to have and to hold... for richer, for poorer... in sickness and in health... to love and to cherish... from this day forward... until death do we part.  
    I uttered these words more than twenty years ago and have not regretted them since... until maybe this past month.
    You see, on New Years Eve, Cheryl and I decided to re-organize my closet. We started off by measuring the closet space so that we could purchase the appropriate parts at Home Depot. It was right there in the closet organizing section of Home Depot where twenty years of a blissful marriage began to unravel.
    Cheryl was thinking out loud and talking her way through the math. I was listening and felt that she was making an error in the way she had measured. I interrupted her to ask if she were starting from the correct corner. She ignored me and continued to plow ahead aloud with her incorrect premise. I plowed ahead with my attempts to correct her.
    After my second attempt to right the wrong, Cheryl uncharacteristically snapped at me. I felt that this was not necessary and instead of arguing, I said we would do this a different day. I was uncharacteristically calm. Cheryl did not like the idea of coming back on a different day, so we actually began to argue in the store. This is the first time that I was thankful that you can never find a Home Depot employee anywhere in Home Depot.
    As she turned and left the aisle, I turned to Noah who was riding in the cart and asked if I said something that would cause my lovely bride to become so upset. Now, I know that you should not include your kids in your arguments, but this was different... I am never the calm one and this time, I was... he was my only witness.
    Ever the diplomat, young Noah answered, whoever is pushing the cart, that is whose side I am on.
    This can only be interpreted one way... I was pushing the cart... so I won.
    Point Mark!
    We eventually purchased all the parts and we began the project. I installed the tracks and began to line up the rods. After I had everything just right, Cheryl poked her head in and said that I needed to move the track over a few inches. I unscrewed the track and moved it over a few inches. She then poked her head in again and said that I had moved it over too far.
    I moved it four inches.
    I know. I said move it a few inches!
    Four inches is a few inches.
    Four inches is too far.
    I don't see how four does not qualify as a few. Unfortunately, Noah was not around to settle this argument, so I cannot declare myself the winner.
    Draw!
    We finished the project, but there was still some lingering tension.
    Last Saturday, Cheryl took Noah to his CCD class and met a friend for breakfast. She had a great time. So, this past Saturday, I though it would be nice if she and I took Noah to CCD, and then the two of us could go to breakfast. I seem to recall that people refer to these one on one encounters as dates.
    Five minutes into our date, the topic of my coaching basketball came up. In the past, Cheryl has mentioned that she thinks that I yell too much. I point out that half of my team thinks we are playing offense when we are on defense, so I feel there is a need to yell. She feels that they must get confused because I yell. It is the age old "chicken or the egg" argument.
    How did the date end, Chuck? Not so hot.
    We barely spoke through most of the meal. I cannot imagine that she and her friend sat there in silence and stared at their plates. What went wrong? We were so happy to be out without the kids... I was going to eat my entire meal without sharing with some bratty kid... and she was going to only cut up the sausages on her own plate. It started out with such great promise... we had both chuckled when we told the hostess, table for TWO please!  
    I had to know what went wrong. So that following Monday, while getting ready for work, I questioned what she and her friend had discussed on their "date." Cheryl responded by asking me what my friends and I talk about. 
    Who knows? We talk for hours and don't talk about anything! 
    Well, there are things that I can talk about with her, that I can't talk about with you.
    Really, like what? 
    You don't take criticism very well. 
    Do your friends take criticism well? You go out with friends so you can criticize them?   
    No, I don't criticize them. 
    Sooo, who do you criticize... Me?
    I don't criticize anyone. We didn't even talk about you.
    So why bring it up when I ask what you talked about. 
    I don't know. I was just pointing out that you do not take criticism very well. Like the other day at breakfast. 
    For the record, I agreed with her... I agreed with her because I am of the opinion that nobody, and I mean nobody, takes criticism well. To prove my point, I did an experiment right then and there... I criticized Cheryl. Guess what... she did not take it very well.
    Point Mark!
    I thought that things had settled down a bit by Thursday, but then I got on Facebook and saw a post from a friend of ours that read as follows:
    Advice to young married couples: never hang wallpaper together. It only ends one way, in tears and screaming. Your wife may get upset too. 
    Imagine my shock and horror when I read the following comment from my wife:
    Forget Pre Cana... Just assign the poor schlubs the task of renovating a closet, and see if they still want to get married on Monday. 
    I am pretty sure that was directed at me, and I won't lie, that stings a bit.
    So now, I have the task of piecing together a tattered marriage. Perhaps we can repeat our vows. Of course we may have to alter them a bit. Perhaps.....
    I Mark, take you Cheryl to be my lawfully wedded wife. Whenever I'm right and whenever you're wrong... my love for you will always be strong... I will love you more than you will ever know... despite your yelling at the Home Depot... I promise to laugh and never be grim... even when my team shoots at the wrong rim... It's you that I'll love like a bright shining star... I'll move mountains for you... is four inches too far?  
    I am hopeful that this works... I kind of like being married. Plus, we need to re-do the hardwood floors.