My morning routine might hit close to home for you: a startling wakeup courtesy of that damned alarm clock, followed by the reaction of my palm hitting the snooze and then acknowledgement that the morning is already on its way whether or not you’re ready for it. This is the morning rush hour I’ve come to dread more than the million other commuters on the road. When it’s time to leave for work, all of a sudden I’m in a black hole where a minor wardrobe crisis throws me off schedule. This becomes a major problem for my husband, Tony.

The complex where we live has tandem parking, which leaves my car blocking Tony’s car. And because his work docks pay for showing up even a minute late, he feels the pressure every morning when I’m struggling to walk out that door with him.

We’ve had a recent run of good luck, and this past Friday morning found us chatting it up and feeling happy to be at the end of the workweek. How quickly things can change. Everything came to a crashing halt—literally—when Tony accidentally knocked over the coffee mug he filled for me to take on my drive. Coffee, with sweetened creamer no less, spilled onto the floor and filled the treads of shoes nearby. I might as well have seen steam coming out Tony’s ears, because he started cursing and getting that huffy puffy look you don when your panties get all in a twist.

Suddenly, it was my fault for not filling my own mug. And those magazines I left on the table forced him to place it closer to the edge. I called him out on displacing his anger and blame, but now was clearly not the time to talk sense. After grabbing a wad of paper towels, I went to refill my coffee mug and found the pot empty. I was bummed because I really needed the caffeine fix after a week of sleep deprivation. Tony almost seemed smug that I was S.O.L. till I got to work, and he didn’t even offer to share any of his coffee! I felt no love.

If the situation couldn’t have gotten worse, my calm began to quickly dissipate. My attempt to clean the floor was met with Tony’s bark that I wouldn’t do as good a job as he would. That was the topper. Infuriated, I threw the towels and spray down and stormed off. Right before I left, I told him I knew he’d realize what a jerk he was and end up apologizing, but why couldn’t he just realize it now?

Later at work, I received an e-mail from Tony. As I predicted, he apologized in a roundabout way, saying he was sorry that I "got caught in the crossfire" of his anger. My fingers tapped away furiously as I replied to question his wording.

I wished he would take these opportunities to see how to avoid future repeats, as his morning outbursts of grumpiness weren’t uncommon. That morning, instead of "crying over spilt milk," Tony yelled over spilt coffee and it turned both our mornings upside down. I would of course forgive him, but without real change, I would remain "unsatisfied." No man likes to hear that.

His reply came and melted my hardened exterior. In addition to properly apologizing for the morning melee, he caused me to laugh with the line, "I believe overall I am a compassionate person that feels good when I help other people and animals." He went on to tell me that after I had left the house, Scout (our dog) was visibly upset. We knew, that at least for the sake of our dog’s sense of wellbeing, we should make peace.

Mornings aren’t going to get easier anytime soon, so we need to work on how we deal with them. I know there will still be times where we test each other in the hurry to start our day, but love, compassion and patience need to replace anger, harshness and impatience. When we let our temper repeatedly get the best of us, the sparkle in our relationship slowly fades. There’s a long road ahead in this marriage and I imagine how some older couples, upon reflection, see that somewhere they got off course and never veered back. I’m doing my part to keep us on the straight and narrow, even if it means occasionally jumping the tracks. What matters is that you get right back on.