One second you’re calling her “baby,” and the next she’s acting exactly like one. Maybe you left the seat up again. Or maybe you arrived late with your hair dripping stripper glitter. Whatever the cause, your chick is now crying, screaming, and possibly possessed. Now, it’s up to you to escape the Mack truck headlights of her wrath. Your time is ticking:


Give it up! An ex-con in East Harlem once said, “Look, Papi, even when you’re right, you’re wrong.” You can either be Kim Jong Il or Jimmy Carter in this nuclear-level standoff. Calling her names and putting your fist through the wall only leads to greater hysterics and a possible restraining order. Drop whatever stupid action or statement it was that landed you in this simmering pot, and admit you’re wrong—even if you’re not. Relax your body and voice, breathe deeply, and remember that this red-eyed, sailor-tongued demon is actually the woman you love. Suck it up and summon the cool, calm, respectful guy you pretended to be on your first date. Remember, swallowing a teaspoon of pride now saves your eardrums later.


Get sensitive. After ceasing your half of the battle—and maybe donning protective eyewear—your next goal is to try calming her down. Move her into a safe place (the closet doesn’t count), where she can intake oxygen at a normal rate. Say sorry a lot and mean it. She’s probably been pondering life with you as co-pilot, so even small failures to understand her feelings or standards burst the perfect partnership fantasy. Soothe her by reminding her of what you share (meaning affection and good times, not your mutual love of porn). Calmly confirm your sincere desire to correct bad behavior for the future you hope to enjoy together. Eye contact and a soft voice are crucial to stop her rotating head.


Try bribery. Delivering water, a comfortable chair, or tissues is a huge boon at this point. Surprisingly, there are few better people than you to calm her, so be Superman and demonstrate that her needs are taken care of. If all’s going well, you might attempt to put your arm around her or massage her neck (but no further, if you value your appendages—all of them).


Retreat! Retreat! So, the sweet talk didn’t work. When she bellows, “Get out!” in gutteral tone more frightening than any heard in The Amityville Horror, heed her advice and hit the door. Just make sure your leaving doesn’t escalate already hurt feelings. Let her know you are giving her space for herself and that you’ll be back the second she needs your support. The last thing you need is her calling “Daddy” to announce you’ve left in a snit. Keep your sense of humor, without making fun of her concerns. Get thee to a bar. Take a shot of tequila. Rinse with lime. Repeat.


Wait it out. It might take minutes or a couple of days, but if you’ve shown the above maturity and compassion, chances are she’ll realize giving birth to a cow wasn’t her proudest moment and forgive you. Hopefully, you’ve landed in the no-fight zone where pleasantries and makeup sex reign. Enjoy it, because the beast will be back. We guarantee it.