Warning: Irritability Ahead

It happened on the stairs, somewhere between the fourth step and the fifth step. Right after I asked Tiffany if I could help her with the six bags she was trying to carry and just before one of those bags dropped from her clutches.

"Okay, I just got really irritated," Tiffany said.

I glanced up at her, as I tried to untangle a couple of the bags from her fingers and thumbs. She didn't look irritated. In fact, she was sort of smiling.

"Not at me," I ventured.

"No, not at you," she said.

I laughed.

"I don't know what happened; I can't explain it, but I wouldn't laugh too hard," she said. "Otherwise, I might get irritated at you."

I followed her up the stairs, swallowing my chuckle.

"I'm laughing, but that's only because I can't do what I want to do, which is scream and punch someone," she said.

I dropped back ever-so-slightly.

"You have the keys," she reminded me.

I hurried around her to open the door. By this time, we were both laughing, for real. All irritability and potential irritability had passed.

Usually when Tiffany and I get irritated, we don't warn each other that we're getting irritated. And usually when one of us gets irritated, the other gets irritated as a defense mechanism. So we might go from loving each other to not being able to stand the sight of each other in an instant.

One morning, for instance, I planned to sleep in a little bit instead of going to the gym before work. I wanted to have a leisurely breakfast and also to write some. But Tiffany came home between clients.

"Good morning!" she called as she opened the door.

"What are you doing here," I said, grumpily.

I explained why I was being mean but only after I had been mean. By that time, she already wanted to be mean back. We barely recovered before I had to leave for work.

But, occasionally, sometimes, once-in-a-blue-moon, like the other day on the stairs, we are able to pull off that miracle of couple-dom: communication.

And it never fails to surprise us that it actually works.