...but instead, loud enough so they can hear you all over the rest of the house. And no, it's not an even remotely fun activity I'm talking about here....it's yet another battle in the break up of my parents marriage. This one fight will probably stick with me forever, that's how vividly I remember it. The time and day, I couldn't tell you, but what my sister and I experienced is still very clear.
I have absolutely no idea what they were fighting about this time...money? maybe. dad cheating? quite possibly. There were shouts of "Fuck you" back and forth. My sister's room was directly above theirs, and we could hear every shout. I couldn't take away the words she was hearing (she was 10, I was almost 13), and all I could do was hold her as she sobbed. Then it occurred to us, maybe they're yelling because of us. So quiet as mice we crept downstairs and did the dishes and put laundry in, and tried to be as perfect as we could, convinced that our doing chores around the house without being asked would stop the fighting. (Our folks had yet to have the "mom and dad still love each other but can't live with each other and it has nothing to do with you" talk yet. and wouldn't for some time.)
Long story short, it didn't stop the fighting...the only thing that did was dad moving out, just before my sister's birthday.
And people wonder why I hate conflict...
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Ah that's a tough one. I've just come over from jmlc and told her that healthy discussion is one thing but a full on slanging match quite another. I feel for you.
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