The fights always started over the most trivial, almost laughably small things—things that under normal, peaceful circumstances wouldn’t even make a person blink.
What might be “background noise” to someone else becomes a thunderclap to an exhausted mother.
My mother-in-law, Mrs. Anderson, was completely devoted to her evening soap operas.
No one dared touch the remote when her favorite shows were on. My father-in-law, Mr. Anderson, however, was just as obsessed with his nightly baseball games.
That single remote control had become a weapon in their ongoing domestic cold war. You’d think it was a minor inconvenience—two adults arguing about what to watch.
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