The fight began while I was massaging my wife's feet.

    We were curled up on the couch. I was kneading and caressing Jennifer's insole and heel. Each little piggy was carefully attended to, as was every corn, callus and bunion. Then, into the third hour, I got to thinking, Wouldn't it be great if someone else were doing this? Only I didn't think it -- I said it.

    There was silence from the east end of the sofa. I sped up the massage and suggested we switch on HGTV. "They're remodeling bathrooms!" I said, a little too eager to please.

    Too late. "I don't ask you for much," she said, moving to the easy chair. "May I please have the remote?" She was angry. I could tell because Jennifer gets polite when she's angry. And then the fight was on. I knew because we weren't saying anything. When we're not fighting, Jennifer can wax eloquent on any subject. While watching Medium last month, she held forth on the topic "Is it me, or does Patricia Arquette's haircut look off?"

    Well, two can play this game -- I buried my nose in The New York Times crossword puzzle. Since it was a Thursday, I got only three clues right. But there I sat, staring at 27 down, "Beverly Sills's shoe size," pointedly ignoring Jennifer and the couples remodeling their hampers.

    Jennifer was the first to cave. It was a few hours later. The news was now on, and I had just figured out that Beverly Sills wore a size "bix" when Jennifer whispered, "I'm sorry." She's not a fighter, and the pressure was killing her. She sat on my lap and kissed me ever so tenderly, just as sports came on.

    Frankly, I see no reason why I can't kiss my wife and watch Mets highlights simultaneously. However, this seems to break fight-makeup protocol, in which it is spelled out in some handbook （which I apparently misplaced） that when your wife wants to bury the hatchet, you are not allowed to watch sports.

    "You don't want to kiss me?"

    "I do. But I would prefer to kiss you during the weather."

    Off my lap and back to the chair she went.

    "All night I watched couples agonize over the benefits of the Centerset Double Handle Lavatory Faucet from the Victorian Collection versus the Widespread High-Arc Lavatory Faucet," I reminded her. "But when sports comes on …"

    "May I please have the remote?"

    If she thinks she can take that tone with me …

    Earlier, Jennifer had pointed out that she doesn't ask me for much. And it's true. I'm the needy one.

    The one who must have his jokes laughed at, who needs his hand held when we go to parties, the one who ducks all the important decisions.

    "C'mon, I'll massage your feet," I offered. Before I could catch the words and stuff them back in my mouth, she was on the couch.

    Now it was her turn. She switched on ESPN. And as the Mets scored the go-ahead run …

    "So," she said, "do you think Patricia Arquette will grow out her hair?"

    爭執開始的時候我在為妻子捏腳。

    我們舒適的蜷臥在沙發上。我溫柔的捏著Jennifer的腳底和足跟并仔細的揉著她那像玉米粒似的腳趾。不一會，就過了三個小時，我就想啊，要是有其他人替我做就好了！只是我不僅僅是想--我說了出來。

    沙發那頭一下安靜了下來。我加快了揉捏的動作并建議說："我們看家居頻道吧".我接著說："他們正改造浴室呢！"那時，我都覺得自己急于取悅于她了。

    可惜還是太遲了。"我不會再提更多要求了。"她邊說邊走向了一邊的安樂椅。"請問，我可以呆在這個小角落里嗎？"Jennifer生氣了，因為她生氣的時候總是很禮貌。接著，我知道冷戰已經暴發了，因為我們再沒有說過一句話。當我們不吵架的時候，Jennifer的口才是無論遇到什么話題都可以用雄辯來形容的。上個月我們看電視時，她就對" 是我還是Patricia Arquette的發型更好？"大加討論。

    好吧，兩個人的游戲--我埋頭玩起了《紐約時報》上的字謎游戲。從星期四就開始玩了，但我目前只找到三條線索。我坐在那兒看著那些格子，沉浸其中，"Beverly Sills的穿多大的鞋？"我完全丟開了Jennifer 和夫妻矛盾。

    幾小時后，Jennifer 第一次屈服了。新聞開始了，當我得知Beverly Sills 穿的是大號鞋的時候，Jennifer 輕輕的對的說："對不起。"很明顯冷戰讓她吃不消了。她慢慢坐在我腿上用前所未有的熱情來吻我，但此時我最愛的體育節目開始了。

    坦白說，我知道我沒有理由不去吻我的妻子并且陪她看電視。但是，這破壞了戰爭暴發的初衷。雖然，一些手冊里曾提到過這點（很明顯我根本沒在意）,那就是當你的妻子想要與你合好時，你不能去看體育節目。

    "你不打算吻我嗎？"

    "我想吻你。但是我更愿意在不播體育節目的時候吻你。"

    她起身回到了安樂椅那兒。

    "整個晚上我都在看一對兒夫妻苦苦思索關于盥洗室應該用哪種水龍頭更好的節目，可是當體育節目剛一開始就……"我補充到。

    "請問，我可以呆在這個小角落里嗎？"

    她還用那種語調對我說……

    早些時候，Jennifer就曾說過她不想再多要求我什么。而現在我忽然發現，其實我才是個要求太多的人，我說笑話時她必須要笑，我去參加聚會時她必須要挽著我的胳膊，還有我想要做所有重要的決定。

    "過來，我幫你按摩腳。"我請求到。我還沒把話說完，她已經坐到了沙發上。

    現在輪到她了，她打開體育臺和我一起為大都會隊加油……

    "你說Patricia Arquette會不會把頭發留長？"她說道。