Bickering, Compromise, and the Color Yellow

People don’t believe me when I say this, but my husband and I don’t fight. It’s true. We were both the problem solvers in our families, and that spirit has extended into our relationship. Any issue we have, we talk out, with each of us offering solutions. What we do do (haha, doo doo, like poop) is bicker. We bicker constantly. Listening to our conversations, you’d think that we’ve been married for 50 years. Always quick-witted and snappy, we will sometimes stop in the middle of a conversation just to marvel at our bickering talents. Then we look at each other all goo-goo-eyed and kiss, and if our friends are around they tell us that we are gross. One of our most common bickering topics is something that on the surface, doesn’t seem controversial at all: yellow.

I love the color yellow.

No embellishments or additional adjectives necessary. I simply love the color yellow. In my opinion, there is nothing bad about yellow. Whether it’s summer or winter, it always manages to brighten up the day and lift my spirits. I’ve felt this way ever since I brought it back in 2004, courtesy of my Turnabout dress. You didn’t know it had left? No worries. I created such a flawless transition, that it’s no wonder you didn’t notice its sudden reappearance into your life. I forgive you, and you’re welcome.
My husband happens to take a different perspective on yellow. While he admits that I look adorable wrapped in my bright yellow pea coat, cardigan or hat, he loathes it anywhere else. All I have to do to instigate a great bickering match is to say that I want to paint our living room yellow.

Now, when you get married you start talking about the future… a lot. For us, this includes all of the things that we want in our house to be purchased at a later date when we actually feel like grown ups. There’s some stuff that we agree on, some stuff that we don’t care enough about to oppose, and some stuff (like painting the living room yellow) that we will bicker about at length and on numerous occasions. In my love of yellow I want to be surrounded by it while I watch television, play with the new iPad, and take naps on Edna. (Edna is my name for the couch, another thing we bicker about because he thinks naming inanimate objects is silly, but it’s okay, because he still thinks I’m cute for it. I also named our Thanksgiving turkey Bill. He was delicious. The turkey, not my husband. Though my husband’s nothing to sneeze at!)

Anyhoo, he refuses to submit to my love of yellow on the walls. We’ll go a few rounds on the living room, until I finally say “Fine, but I’m going to paint the kitchen walls yellow.” He tries to argue, but I always win with my killer comeback: “Who’s going to be doing most of the cooking and baking and spending more time in the kitchen? Me. I’m painting it yellow.” That’s the moment where I make some sort of face and he shakes his head at me in the “you’re adorable” sort of way that I love, and we live to bicker another day.

Then I stick my tongue out at him, because I’m mature like that.



p.s. I’m sure you’re all as obsessed with this photo as I am, so here’s our photographer’s website. He is awesome.


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