A few months ago, Trey and I went to the Kroger on 96. I have made it as clear as possible my feelings on grocery shopping:
I love it.
It’s no surprise, though, that this isn’t the case for everyone.
Not everyone is skipping through daffodils at a crowded superstore, ignoring the less-than-desirable parts.
Enter my husband, Trey.
He’s about as easy-going, kind, and gracious as they come. But there are a few things that set this man off:
- Bad drivers
- Poor pickleball performances (IF YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW)
- Crowded grocery stores
One of my many flaws is that I’m not as perceptive as I should be, and the emotional gage on the room and emotional intelligence is LOW with this one.
These bits of information are crucial for this story.
We went to Kroger for our normal shopping trip, and Trey was driving the cart. My job was throwing in groceries and enjoying the whole experience.
Anything can be a date if you try hard enough, right??
We’d rounded the produce, traipsed through the bread, and were well on our way to traversing the meat section.
It was crowded, so this was no small feat.
Trey serves as our battering ram in crowded moments, so he was in the lead. We were high-stepping the interstate that is the area between the assorted noodles and the beef, when all of a sudden, something caught my eye.
Add that to the list of flaws: I struggle to hold attention.
Who knows what it was: could have been a seasonal offering (I’m a sucker for anything that says “Easter” or “Limited Edition” in the title) or a good deal on tortillas because isn’t that what we all want in life? Just $.07 off our quesadillas?).
AT ANY RATE- I was looking off into the distance.
Therefore, I didn’t see Trey stop.
Therefore, I couldn’t stop myself.
Therefore, I couldn’t avoid slamming into his back.
As I did, the buggy rammed into the heels of the person in front of him, and if you’ve never felt that pain, you’ll never understand the quickness with which that man turned around to stare at Trey.
And you would really never understand the quickness with which Trey turned around to glare at me.
If looks could kill, I would be a goner, folks.
Trey apologized to the man, which is good, right, because we were about one wrong breath away from an altercation.
The man didn’t look convinced until I popped out from behind Trey, put on my ‘folksy shopper’ routine, and also apologized, adding in that it was my fault and giving him all my apologies.
The man, realizing that a smarting heel was better than what Trey had to deal with on a daily basis, accepted the apology and softened substantially, which tells me that I still have my girlish charms.
Excellent.
As we stepped away from this man, my grin melted right off.
We continued the shopping trip in total silence.
Trey was mad because Emmie caused him to almost amputate a man’s foot with the buggy.
Emmie was mad because Trey had amputated her joy with his searing look.
Do I even need to tell you that it was also a silent ride home?
After we got home, and we got all groceries put away, peace was declared, and the situation went the way of most small arguments:
It turned into something laughable.
There is much to be learned in two years of marriage:
- What soap is the right choice for both parties in the union
- How to stack the dishes so they don’t come flying down at your husband at 4:45am when he tries to get his coffee mugs together for work.
- That unmatching socks bug one party of the union (while the other party in said union doesn’t much care)
- When cleaning a bathroom, two people make the job go a whole lot faster (but you are more likely to need face masks)
- Which vegetables are acceptable for both folks, and which are one person’s preference
- How expensive a Georgia Power bill can be
But another, more serious truth is this: the majority of arguments really don’t matter.
Oftentimes, spats come over minute, miniscule, insignificant things.
They are tiny offenses that you have to make the effort to forget and get over.
After one of these hiccups (that always seems so much bigger than it really is), I had this thought:
Most likely, there will come a day when one of us will be wishing we had more time together.
That’s a sobering thought, but it’s also a really hopeful one, too.
I’m lucky enough to be in community with a wide range of folks in different circles in my life: church, work, pickleball, my friend group, family.
And in those circles, there are people of all stages of life. There are a few who have lost spouses, and I know that they would love to have just another day with their spouses.
With that in mind, simmering about the inconsequential arguments?
It’s such a waste of time.
I’m in the process of learning just how precious time is.
I know that’s cliche, but it’s also very true.
And it’s so hard to remember that in the heat of the moment.
There is so much to love and to enjoy right now.
(In a separate but still related vein, that’s why we are in no rush to have kids. This time is fleeting: there will be a lifetime with kids, but only so much time with the two of us.)
But, how unfortunate to waste that time, and just time in general, being angry about those small, inconsequential things.
So, this approach-
Does it help me get angry less?
HAHAHA! ABSOLUTELY NOT.
I can still get ticked with the best of them.
But this does help me have enough perspective where I’m less likely to simmer and explode over something small.
I’m a work in progress.
But I do keep this in mind:
Trey and I are lucky to have (from my perspective, at least) a really good marriage.
To genuinely like your spouse and have a great friendship at the heart of your relationship is a blessing from God.
When divorce and unhappy marriages are so common, it underscores the value of a good relationship.
I take for granted that I enjoy being around Trey, that I am married to a great man, that I am valued and honored by him.
-that we truly enjoy one another.
-that we love spending time together.
-that we are the loudest, most excitable, most obnoxious couple around.
Easily Excitable 
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