Quarrel

as in

"I don't want to quarrel."

Variations: "Let’s not talk about that now ... Can we leave it, please? ... Why do you have to go on about it all the time?...You know I don’t like to argue ... It was only your favourite VHS / CD / DVD / book / jumper / pet rock / or whatever."

For once, she doesn’t want to talk. Funny that, isn’t it? If the subject is her or the two of you doing things together or a birthday present for some distant 105 year old aunt or how “nice” it would be to paint the sitting room pink, she is rearing to go and ready to stay up half the night chatting.

But as soon as it is something that matters, something virtually life threatening - like a programme you want to see or a match you would like to go to or whatever the damage is that she has done to your mobile phone memory or PC hard drive - she behaves as if verbal communication is precious, at a premium. That it has to be saved.

Suddenly she reacts as if it’s a dangerous thing. Like starting to laugh in a sacred place. Or making noise in a war zone. A word too many here or there and disaster might ensue. But it is so hard to quell the fires, isn’t it, when you know you are right - for once, at least - and that if you let it go now, it will simmer and stew inside you, driving you mad for weeks.

Yet if you do go on about it, she’ll nail you to the wall for being petty, for refusing to move on. Sadly, she’s got you and there is probably no alternative for you but a few hours out with a mate or two reviewing the situation.

At least you can count on their wholehearted support in this case. Undoubtedly, they’ll have been there.