Opinion: Email cures fight

My husband Doo and I had an epic blow-up the other night, so much so that we have already dubbed it the “Controversial Phone Call Incident of 2015.” The cool part, other than the fact that I actually yelled a swear word, in anger, at him, on purpose, which has never before happened in the 25 year history of our relationship, is the way we handled the reconciliation. For once, impersonal technology saved the day.

First, the fight. Doo took a conference call at 9:15 p.m. in bed as I was trying to sleep. He assured me it would only last five minutes, but 30 minutes later he was still on. I finally snapped, emphatically articulated the aforementioned curse, and caused Doo to totally lose his schtick. Trust me when I say his reaction was impressively combustive.

Fortunately we recognized that we were both too exhausted to sort through the debris in the moment, and decided to postpone “the talk” until the mutually agreed upon future time of “later.” I slept terribly, as did Doo, and busy schedules kept us from even seeing each other the following day. Doo was literally asleep before I returned home from the kids’ carpool schlep.

The next morning I tested the waters. I sent a beautiful email that would have made any marital counselor proud. I took responsibility for my role and apologized for my behavior, I explained how his actions had made me feel, and inserted just the right amount of humor to show I wasn’t angry anymore.

A few hours later came Doo’s reply. He also owned up to his part in the CPCI, said he was sorry, and thanked me for getting the forgiveness ball rolling. And of course, he was obnoxiously funny. Done. Fight over.

Now maybe email isn’t the “recommended” way to communicate after a big argument, but Doo and I are both too hot-headed to demonstrate grace and understanding face to face. We need the ability to organize and edit our thoughts before the other hears (or reads) them. For us, email is the perfect solution.

Peace out.

Danielle Wilson

I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, the same year Dick Nixon was elected. Along with my twin sister and three younger sisters, I attended Catholic schools for thirteen years. (Holy Mother, pray for me.) I spent two years as a cadet at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado until I wised up and transferred to a more normal school, Indiana University, where I received a B.A. in history and a teaching license just for funsies. In 2001, I officially entered the ranks of stay-at-home moms to care for my two-year old son and newborn twins. I have mentally blocked all of 2002 and most of 2003. In 2004, I received a Master’s degree in U.S. History from I.U.P.U.I. and a fourth child from my should-have-had-that-vasectomy-sooner husband. From 2005 until mid-2010, I played Super Mom in the yet-to-be released indie film "Provide Daycare for Your Sister-in-Law's Children Because You Don't Have Enough to Do Already." I returned to teaching this fall at an undisclosed Indianapolis school where thankfully very few parents know who I am. I am considering developing a bad habit.

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