Am I that old that my failed marriage is a childhood memory? It seems so.
Ah, the wisdom that comes with age. I would have saved myself a lot of grief and aggravation if I had not tried to win arguments with my wife that I could never win. I argued with her because I thought I could win. What the hell did I know?
One of the constant arguments I had with my wife was over how everything I did was wrong. I would not try to do it wrong, but no matter what or how I did something, it was wrong. Simple things such as putting food away, doing the dishes, making the bed, setting the table, changing diapers, boiling water, cleaning, etc., was always wrong, wrong, wrong. I had been dressing all by myself for years, but never knew that I was choosing the wrong clothing color combinations until I got married.
If I had known then what I know now, then I would have accepted that I am always wrong no matter what. I would never have wasted energy arguing. I would have stood and listened while my wife yelled at me. Once she finished, I would have apologized. I would have known and accepted that she would never be satisfied, no matter what.
Oh, the inner peace I would have had if I had known then, when I was a child, what I know now. Getting older has helped me to find most of my marbles, but I am still missing some.