Our First Fight

I don't know what made me think of this, but as we approach 10 years of marriage, I pause to reflect...

I’ll never forget our first big fight: It was during our first year of marriage while we were living in a duplex on South 35th Street in Springfield, OR. After exchanging a few heated words, Mandi, as a joke, locked me out of the house while I was taking out the trash. Angered and stupid, I decided to get even by getting in the car and leaving, also as a ‘joke.’ Seeing me pull away from the house my new bride assumed I was leaving her, so she tried to get in her own car and chase after me.

Meanwhile, I circled the block and was able to observe her chase by following after. Unsure which way I went, she headed for my parents’ house. They were the only family we had in town at the time. When she arrived and found out that I wasn’t there, she was distraught. A few moments later I arrived. We yelled, she cried, we made up as only newlyweds can, but in the end, it was mostly my fault. What was it actually about?What was the root of those first heated words that led to our fiasco? I have no idea.