A story my gran'pa told me when I had asked him how his life and marriage to Gran'ma had lasted so well for 50 plus years, went like this:
Right after he and her got hitched, they were moving from GA down to FL...
Being real poor folks, they migrated down with a buckboard wagon, pulled by a mule.
About 50 miles into the trip, the mule for some reason stumbled, and all Gran'pa said was "that's once"....
Just past the FL line, the mule stumbled again, and Gran'pa says "that's twice"...
As they turned into the road where he had secured a homestead in FL, the mule stumbled again, and Gran'pa said "That's three times!", then unholstered his pistol, and shot the mule right between the ears, killing him dead.
He told me that Gran'ma then went totally ballistic...screaming obscenities, and telling him that he was just a total ******* for killing that poor mule....
After she calmed down, he very quietly asked her if she was finished with her tirade...she replied she was...and in a soft voice, he says "that's once"
In all their years together, they never had another argument.
Uncle Philthy