My husband and I are constantly living a silent war. It is the silent war of the end of our toothpastes life. What happens is we realize our toothpaste is running out, so my husband (being the kind and thoughtful husband that he is) runs to the store and buys us an extra tube of toothpaste to have. He sets it ever so conveniently on the bathroom counter. Everyday, we squeeze the dying toothpaste until its lungs are being flattened. Throughout this process, we do not address the toothpaste incident to each other, AT ALL. The new toothpaste waits quietly on the counter, staring at his cousin die a slow and painful death. Neither myself nor my husband wants to be the one that buckles and breaks down and has to open the new box of toothpaste.
And I guess this time, I have to say with my head hanging down, that I lost this silent war. But there will always be another round. Always.
