I recently found myself staunchly trying to defend my ability to captain an airplane. It was one of those arguments that you launch right into, without stopping to consider whether you even agree with yourself.
Brad is used to these kinds of arguments.
Once I insisted that he should buy a My Little Pony so he could practise braiding its tail – a skill he could then use to braid my hair whenever I ask (which is at least once a week) – and he refused and I got really offended and we had a massive argument about it – and then I suddenly realised that I was being unreasonable and I didn’t actually *care* if he didn’t buy a My Little Pony.
So I had to stop.
But I didn’t apologise – I very rarely ever admit defeat, and admitting responsibility is even less likely.
Anyway, once again I found myself in a similar situation: loudly and obnoxiously and blindly arguing my case in a cause I couldn’t care less about. Also, considering my proposed landing speech was
Okay passengers, someone needs to hold my hand during our descent because I *hate* landing. Also, can you look out for any obstacles, because I’ll probably have my eyes closed. …. Oh – but don’t panic, anybody – that just makes it worse for me
it probably wasn’t even worth defending my position.
So I had to stop. And apologise. But I didn’t apologise – I just cited the My Little Pony example to prove that if you want to fight with me this is really the sort of thing you should expect.
And the guy I was arguing was so amused by a mature, married and daughterless couple arguing about a My Little Pony that he forgot about our fight. I call this a victory.
Also, I’m going to tell Brad that other people find me amusing. Then he might learn to appreciate my conversation himself. At the moment he usually looks at me in dismay and says negative things like:
“You’re completely crazy, do you know that?”
And “I can’t even talk to you”
And “Are you seriously accusing me of being mean just because I won’t buy a My Little Pony?!”