Loud and Proud

My husband and I are arguing, and it is loud and proud. We could walk around stomping and mean, under a sad rain cloud, But we have known each other since first grade, with dear Mrs. Stroud. When we disagree we turn into five-year-olds, loud and proud. Others might not understand thinking our marriage is ready for a shroud, These babyish ways work for us, so please forgive us when we are loud. And get out of our way and give us some space when we get proud.