There was never a greater pain in my neck than picking out a glass coffee table with my wife. It was really quite a hassle, and no question about that.

We are both people of strong tastes, driven professional people and both used to having our own way in things. In our personal lives, this usually amounts to no obstacle, as we are both prudent enough to let the other have some space. However, whenever it is a matter of redecorating the house or changing some matter of our routine, be it the layout of the living room, or the color of the walls, everything suddenly goes quite mad quite quickly.

Such was definitely the case when we set out to pick up a new glass top coffee table. We went to literally a dozen stores which sold glass coffee tables, but could not agree on a single one.

I like to think of myself as the one with the more modern, tasteful eye of the two of us. When I look for a glass coffee table, I want simple, economical lines, an elegant and functional design, and a size perfect for the center of our living room.

In comparison to my practicality, however, my wife has an aesthetic that is perfectly rococo. She looked at every glass coffee table that seemed to me to be quaint or vulgar. Her idea of the perfect glass coffee table would probably have lions feet and jewel encrusted coffee mug holders spiraling out of the corner. Had she lived in the court of Louis XIV, she probably could have picked out glass coffee tables for the royal house and been lavishly complemented for her taste.

As it stood though, I was not about to let her be the one to pick the glass coffee table for our house. It really very nearly ended in a fight between the two of us, before the thing was done. And our fights are not simple matters, quickly begun, quickly ended; our fights are epic. The memory of the last one makes me positively quake on recollection, and I would be damned before I let a glass coffee table come between us and stir another one of these rows.

So, as must eventually happen, I yielded halfway to my wife's questionably taste, as she did to mine, and we eventually found a glass coffee table that suited both of us reasonably well, though it was by no means anyone's favorite.