The Factual Basis for the Myth:
When we had been married a few years, we bought this house and I started decorating it. I started decorating it. My wife Gary kept trying to help. After 22 years I have suppressed his feminine urges so now all the homemaking he does is to re-season any food I cook. I can live with that. It helps to know that he doesn't like to season food, just to "fix" it. And I say, "Oh, it's so much better now! You have the magic touch." And after swallowing all that pride the food does taste pretty good in comparison.
At any rate, I will tolerate improvements to my cooking, but then Gary started inching onto my decorating turf. He has a good eye for arranging furniture, better than mine. And then one day, I bought a rug, put it in the bathroom I had bought it for, turned my back, and he had moved it to the bottom of the basement stairs.
The Myth As Gary Tells It:
"I just moved this rug, because I thought it would look better at the bottom of the basement stairs! And then all of a sudden Ellen lost it! She grabbed the lace curtains she had sewn and tore them off the walls, then she went and got the scissors! She came back and started slashing the coverlet and throwing the stuffing around and screaming at me! I grabbed the dog and ran and hid in the bathroom. Every once in a while I'd peek out the door and there was just a blizzard of batting floating through the air! I would have run but I couldn't see! THEN she started throwing things! She grabbed this heavy electrical transformer and threw it and it made a hole in the bedroom door that was there for years! She just kept screaming that I didn't listen to her when she was rational and she was going to act like my family so I'd listen to her!"
More Factual Basis:
Actually, that's pretty much what happened.