My wife was in the new house waiting for a delivery. I was in the old one working. What could possibly go wrong?
My wife and I rarely have a proper argument, so it came as quite a shock to both of us when one did come along. I would describe it as less of an argument and more of a calm conversation during which she pretended to be less annoyed than she really was and I tried to do that annoying thing men do: to be logical about how annoyed she was feeling (which is a really effective way of turning somebody’s anger into pure rage).
It was actually entirely my fault, the insertion of “actually” being entirely unnecessary, to be honest, as it usually is my fault. I’m not saying that in a woe-is-me-aren’t-I-a-put-upon-husband way. It really is almost always my fault (the insertion of “almost” there… you get the idea).