I stared straight ahead trying to concentrate on the steady metallic rhythm of the train cars rolling by. I glanced at my bride out of the corner of my eye. Her lower lip was quivering slightly. The way it still does when she's fighting a good cry. We drove on.
Any married person can finish the story.
We choked down our gourmet dinner. And were finally reconciled, promising never to be cross with each other again. The whole episode is now part of our family lore. But I still think our marriage began with my observation about the perfume. At that point we began to grow.