Fight #2

Lincoln and I very rarely fight. I mean very, very rarely. I can count on one hand the number of times we've had a "serious" fight in the past 9 1/2 years. The first one was in NYC at P.J. Carney's bar (it was the night I bought a drink for Trevor Rees-Jones, the sole survivor of Princess Diana's car crash) and that fight was over gun control. Obviously those two details were unrelated but that's how I remember the night. That was such a serious fight that it even made it into Lincoln's wedding vows ("I vow not to discuss the 2nd Amendment while drinking"). The second one was while we were living in our 750 sq. ft. condo and discussing building our house. Lincoln wanted to build an apartment above the garage and I didn't want to. His argument was that it would be nice for our kids to know that they had a place to move home to if necessary when they grew up and my argument was that the kids were welcome to move back home into their old bedrooms if they needed to but that they would not grow up with the idea that it was okay to fail and they'd have a fully furnished apartment with a separate entrance waiting for them when they did.

That brings us to tonight:

Lincoln: Hey Jake. Tell Mommy where you're going to live when you grow up.

Jake: Here.

Me: What? What about when you're all grown up and married with kids? Where are you going to live?

Jake: Here.

Good loving. Lincoln has obviously wooed Jake over to his side of the argument. You would think he could let it go by now.