STRANGER THAN FICTION: PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENTS? THEY DON'T MEAN DIDDLY

On Valentine's Day, we ran a story about a couple who signed a 16-page prenuptial agreement before they wed. They believed those 16 pieces of paper would keep them married for the next 50 or 60 years, according to the wife.

The document outlined who would care for the chores, where they would spend holidays and how many times a week they would make whoopie (three to five times -- I knew you'd want to know).

He was on his third marriage. She was on her second. 'Nuff said.

Seriously, people who have been married and divorced should realize that words on a piece of paper don't mean diddly when you're down in the trenches. Who cares you signed a paper five years ago that said you'd vacuum every two days? It's Sunday, you have one lousy day a week to relax, your mother-in-law called to ask why you weren't at church and you JUST DON'T FEEL LIKE VACUUMING, DAMMIT!

Is that any reason to end a marriage? No. But your husband not taking the trash out -- now THAT'S a reason to end a marriage.

But the couple had a point when they said it was the stupid little things that caused divorces, and I think it's high time I did a column on the Top Three Stupid Fights With The Other Half. The glory of this column is that I'll be able to update it every year, I'm sure.

Here goes:

3. The Discount Pants. I swore I'd never tell anyone that Mr. Half bought any clothing item at a major discount department store, but he didn't get anything in writing so it's fair game.

We were in the city's largest such store, hint hint, when I ran across a pair of pants just like some Mr. Half had been eying in the mall. Joy of joys, they were marked down to NINE BUCKS! Nine bucks for a pair of dress pants is incredible. I grabbed Mr. Half and led him over to the pants with a gleam in my eye.

"I don't like them," he sneered. "The color isn't right and the fabric feels funny."

I noted that the shirt he had on was the exact same color as the pants. He headed for another rack of pants, not on sale, and picked out a pair that were the SPITTING IMAGE of the discount pants. I wasn't happy.

He said I was treating him like a child. I said I wouldn't treat him like one if he wouldn't act like one. He said he didn't like my wardrobe. I said he didn't have any taste.

We bought the pricey pants.

2. The Barroom Brawl. We were out on the town, just the two of us, for a romantic evening of dancing and drinking adult beverages. We wanted to check out a club we'd never been to, so Mr. Half logically PARKED THE CAR without ever locating the club. Did I mention there was snow on the ground and it was 25 degrees outside?

I made the mistake of asking a male for directions.

Mr. Half accused me of flirting. I said if I were such a great flirt, what was I doing married to him? He revealed he was drunk on the day he married me.

He slept on the couch.

1. The Arch. This argument was the day after we got married, if you can believe it. We were taking the traditional white-trash weekend honeymoon in St. Louis, walking along the Mississippi River hand-in-hand. I suggested we ride to the top of the Arch, which would make our special day even more perfect.

Mr. Half, afraid to reveal his fear of heights, did the macho thing and said my idea was stupid. I did the feminine thing and started bawling. In between sobs, I said this argument was bigger than whether or not the Arch was stupid, it was an indicator of his feelings toward all my lifelong ambitions. I threatened to throw my wedding ring in the river.

Mr. Half told me he was afraid of heights. I stopped crying.

We kissed and made up, and that's the best part of stupid arguments.

~Heidi Nieland is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.