A Big Fight Over A Little Bunny

My husband and I had a Big Fight on Saturday.

Now, Big Fights are nothing new in our relationship. We've been having Big Fights ever since we first got together, back in 1847. It's not that we don't get along, in fact, we are extremely compatible, using the word 'compatible' in the sense of 'passionate, heated, and equally prone to starting an argument for no good reason at all'. And, for us, it works.

Interestingly, though, in recent times our fights have been getting less and less frequent. I could say this is because we have worked hard on our relationship and have achieved an equilibrium based on mutual respect, communication and a commitment to family values and responsible parenting. But in truth, we're both just really tired and can't be bothered.

But Saturday was different. Saturday was a Big Fight. And it was all over a very little bunny.

You see, on Saturday, I took the kids to buy a pet.

My kids have been begging me for a pet for years, and I've resisted. Of course, we had our fish, but he died (using 'he' in the sense of 'he and his many successors'), and he didn't really offer great value as far as an interactive animal experience goes.

We can't get a dog because a) of all the reasons listed here; b) I consider dogs just as much work as another child; and c) I am just as likely to have a fourth child as I am to grow a second head, or join the US Marines.

We can't get a cat, because both my husband and daughter are highly allergic.

We can't get a mouse, because I will spend my life standing on couches screaming.

So the choice was a hamster, or a bunny. Apparently bunnies smell better. So that's what we got.

Now, my husband worked on Saturday, so was not available to join our expedition to the pet shop. Which is a shame, because if he had, then perhaps we would have been able to clarify before the purchase of said bunny exactly what his position on bunny ownership was.

I thought I knew, but I was wrong.

I came home with three excited kids, a quivering bunny, a cage, and about $17,000 worth of paraphenalia. I set up the cage in our internal laundry as per the salesgirl's instruction. Bunny looked happy. Kids looked happy. My wallet looked empty. And all was content.

Until my husband arrived home.

My husband found Bunny in his cage in the laundry. This disturbed my husband because a) he didn't know we were getting a bunny (whereas I thought he did); and b) he didn't want an animal in the house (which I knew, but didn't realise 'the laundry' was considered part of 'the house' - I mean, would you?).

So therein followed a rather heated debate, during which my husband threatened to put Bunny a) out in the cold; b) back in the store; or c) in a pot on the stove. I argued that the laundry wasn't in the house, my daughter cried that Bunny was 'going to freeze outside' (it was around 28 degrees), my son told us all off for shouting, and Toddler giggled maniacally (as she is wont to do).

But in the end, all was fine. We found a nice sheltered spot in the backyard in which to put the cage. What's more, I did some research and discovered that bunnies have this thing called 'fur' that has traditionally protected them from the elements before the days of houses and laundries and such. My daughter stopped crying, my son stopped berating, and Toddler kept giggling (as she is wont to do).

And eventually, my husband and I called a truce. I agreed that I hadn't entirely informed him that we were getting Bunny today, and he agreed that I had been Very Badly Behaved.

But if he thinks I'll ever agree that the laundry is in the house... well... he's got another thing coming.

When was the last time you fought with your partner?