Libby Hill

I’m a very bad arguer.

Well, maybe bad isn’t the word. Perhaps inappropriate is a more apt term to use.

See, my husband is the type of guy who likes to pick a random topic to bother me about endlessly. I imagine he does this because it amuses him.

It drives me absolutely insane when he does this because he just keeps going and going on it until I just can’t take it anymore.

And then it happens.

It seems anymore that I am completely unable to make sensible arguments or defend myself in a typical fashion. What ends up coming out of my mouth is something hideously inappropriate.

I am liable to bring up horrible things that my husband did three years ago that have little to nothing to do with what the argument at hand is. Or perhaps (especially if we’re in front of people) I occasionally reveal horrid secrets and such that makes just about everyone feel terribly uncomfortable.

And to be completely honest I have no clue why my brain thinks it’s OK to do these things, but it does.

Perhaps it’s because my subconscious likes to get things all riled up in a hurry. Or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I like to go for shock value.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fact that my dumbass husband gives me so much embarrassing material to choose from when it comes time to trash talk.

Eh, fair fighting is overrated anyway.

Reach the fearless fighter Libby Hill at [email protected].