Theoretical housing fight

The best thing about owning a home is engaging in theoretical house fights. You can pretty much create a theoretical house fight over almost anything.

M: I want to paint the roof like the Sistine Chapel.
S: Are you serious?
M: I think we could do it. It would look good hon.
S: How could you think that would look good?
M: I've got an MFA.


M: I actually really like the detachable sinks. I'd be kind of upset if they were affixed to the wall.
S: You're joking right. You must be joking.
M: I just don't want to spend the money. I'd love to fix it myself, but I've got this thing I need to do Saturday.
S: What?
M: Football??
Insist that you prefer these types of sinks. Make a Power Point presentation on how the sinks make your life easier. Include pictures of yourself as a child in the bath to illustrate how cute you are. Ignore any questions about the relevance of said pictures.

The great thing about a theoretical housing fight is that you don't even have the house yet. It's somewhat akin to having an argument about how well we're going to get along when we colonize Mars. Yeah, it's going to happen, but let's cross that bridge when we get there.

I suggest theoretical housing fights to everyone who is thinking about buying a home. Just bring some random thing up to your significant other like how you really enjoy wall paper or a HeMan themed room and watch them go ballistic when you stick to your view. Become violently insistent that light colors are for sissies and that you'll be damned if your living room is anything but a deep blue. Then make some kind of comment about how you don't think parquet floors will be in style when your grandkids are trying to sell the house to collect the inheritance.

Conduct a long diatribe about how you don't want that no good (insert name of theoretical grandchild) getting even a penny of your money. Insist that you'll only buy the house if you're allowed to bury the money in the backyard to hide it from the made up grandchild.

This can pretty much be used to instigate anything. Claim that you'll only mow the lawn on Tuesdays. Make sure to work late every Tuesday and claim that your lasiks surgery makes it impossible for you to mow at night for fear of shearing off a toe. Shear off a toe to prove the point. Get it reattached quickly. Obviously you won't be sticking to this, but nothing is better than a theoretical housing fight...nothing.

You can also use theoretical housing fights in other facets of your life as well like, child labor laws.

M: I actually think that we should reinstate child labor laws.
S: Yeah, that's a great idea.
M: I'm just thinking those little fingers would be great at getting things out of heavy industrial machinery.
S: I know you're not serious but it's sort of irritating.
M: Losing the tip of a finger builds character.
Stick to this point for an hour using made up statistics about teen pregnancy and be certain to mention violence in video games as corroborating evidence for your "put the children back to work plan. Call your sig. other Hitler at least once during the exchange.

You can also use this for naming children.

M: I've always wanted to name our little ones after the Chipmunks.
Follow this up by calling the little girl Theodore for the first three years of her life just to prove a point. Claim that your children would be stars if your wife would stop holding them back. Feed them acorns and dress them in lettered shirts.

Or buying a car.
M: I've always kind of wanted a tank.
Follow this up by making repeated calls to the armed forces and leaving pictures of tanks on your spouse's desktop. Keep mentioning how you could drive over all the other cars despite your sig. others insistence that such a path is stupid. Drive home your point by rear ending other cars while you're driving and mentioning how the gd bumper wouldn't look so bad if you had a tank.

Devise a large scoring system for every item in the house. Ask your sig. other to grade out the importance of each item. At some point during the quiz accuse the Russian judge of giving out low scores. Take away the score sheet and attempt to burn it by turning on your television and putting in a video of a fire. Insist that the house was a waste of money and that you were lied to about the fire place.

Or where you stand on the rights of animals. Claim full hearted support of every quadruped but insist on flatly denying rights to everyone else. Accuse your spouse of not knowing what quadruped means. Insist on a dictionary reading of the term. Leave the house at some point during the argument and come back with a completely different opinion.

I'm not sure what the point of this was now. Oh yeah. The point is that it's really easy to argue about something like how many hours you plan to spend on a given Saturday three months from now in the yard, but it doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense. Perhaps the real point is that having an argument over the theoretical amount of time you'll spend on a housing project (on a house you don't yet own/not actually have any information on) is a bit daft.