I would simply keep pointing out to her how ridiculous it would be to go back and ask for the dime when the restaurant had already given us such a good deal. It wasn't worth the effort. Before I realized what was happening, our 1951 Plymouth had turned into a battleground. Mary was literally shouting at me. Maybe a dime is not important to you, but you're not the one who has to stretch the money.
Every penny counts.
You don't understand how difficult it is to make ends meet with your paycheck. And if you don't care any more about it than that, then you can just handle the money yourself. I'm sick and tired of the hassle. I could feel myself getting more and more angry as I defended my refusal to go back for the dime, and my voice was getting louder and louder as I tried to make her see how unreasonable she was acting. The angrier I got, the more hostile she became, and the argument was getting hotter by the second.