The fighting, oh the fighting

We have an attitude-policeman in our home. It's Coralie.

Say Ryan and I are arguing (I know, it's hard to believe, but stick with me here) and I accidentally use a sharp tone of voice with him. Coralie will immediately pipe up and say, "Mom, don't talk to my dad like that! Why are you being mean to him?"

I raise my eyebrows behind her back and Ryan rejoices.

I explain very patiently, "Coralie, I wasn't being mean to Daddy. We were just having a discussion."

Coralie replies, "Well, don't have a discussion! He's a professional and he loves you very much."

Ryan then starts pumping the air, which effectively ends the argument.

It doesn't matter who started the fight, or whether or not Ryan is "being mean" to me. Coralie will simply not tolerate a harsh tone of voice from me. We have had this same scenario play out at least three times over the past month or so, which has turned this phenomenon into a pattern.

Yesterday at lunch, I was tired. I was putting food on Madeline's tray, but I guess I wasn't chipper enough for Coralie, because she said, "Mom, why are you not smiling at Madeline?"

For heaven's sake, Coralie. I can't even have a discussion with your father because "he's a professional and he loves me very much", and now I can't feed Madeline without a smile plastered on my face? You have pretty high standards for me, kid. Remember, I am the baby of my family and therefore am allowed to be moody. So back off.

(Also, I love you.)

And before any of you feel sorry for Coralie that she lives in a home where the parents fight all the time, stop right there. We don't fight all the time, not even close. And we don't really raise our voices. Well, okay, we do sometimes, but it's just because Ryan thinks the louder he talks the smarter his ideas are, and I just have to drown out his stupid ideas with a louder response.

Love ya, babe.  : D