Mara has always struck me as being a tidy uniform person, not a thing out of place, so one wonders what might happen when she came across...dirty laundry.

.

.

"So you and mom actually fought?" Ben asked, doubt in his voice.

"All married people fight, Ben. It's a normal process of life."

"I just thought…mom yelled and you relented."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

"Forget I said anything." Ben said, returning to his meal.

"No, no, let's get this all out." Luke pushed away his plate. "You see contrary to popular belief I did not always fold when your mom dug her heels in." He cocked his head. "Sometimes it was just smarter to do so with your mom than fight her. Fighting with Mara, especially during the earlier years, was….trying.

"It was the first year of our marriage—the one said to be the most difficult—and your mom and I had our first fight-though I'm not sure if you can call it a fight since your mother did all the talking. Anyway..."

Luke then began to relate the story to Ben.

.

"BLAST IT, SKYWALKER!" A voice hollered angrily.

Luke turned toward his wife's livid form.

"Problem, Mara?"

"Yes!" She hissed and hurled an item of clothing.

Underwear hit him in the face. He pulled it off and examined it with a frown. "What's this?" He asked.

"What does it look like, Genius? It's your underwear."

Luke gave her a blank look.

"Oh, I see, I'm going to have to spell this out for you because you're playing stupid at the moment." She marched over and snatched the offending garment from his grasp. "This is your underwear, correct? Well, let me tell you where this underwear was—on the floor of the refresher near the shower. It was just laying there." She shook it in his face. "There I am, minding my own business, stepping out of the shower and I step on this; your dirty underwear.

"Mara..." Luke started to object.

"I'm not done." She let it hang from her fingertip. "You know what I don't get. I don't get how a man who spent his life in the military, could be so sloppy. Here.." Mara walked over to the hamper and propped open the lid. "This is a dirty hamper, my dear." She displayed his underwear. "These are dirty underwear. Now, watch closely…" Her tone was one of blatant condescension as she dropped them inside. "..they go in the hamper, not on the floor." She stared pointedly at him." Is that so hard?"

"Are you through?" He asked.

"Don't you take that tone with me."

"I'm not the one making mountains out of molehills." Luke stated, flustered. "It's just underwear, Mara; underwear which, mind you, I change every day. You are blowing this way out of proportion."

"Blow outing of proportion." Her cheek twitched.

"I'm just saying, this is a trivial matter; nothing that we need to get angry over."

"I'm not angry, I'm irritated." She countered. "You know how I feel about cleanliness, and I've asked you before to throw your dirty laundry in the hamper, and yet again you seemed to have forgotten. So, this is not the first time I've had to remind you. I feel like I'm looking after an overgrown child, Luke, not my husband. A big child whom I have to tell how to do things, and let me tell you...I'm not ready to be a mother yet, much less one to a grown up man." She set her lips. "Now, I'm done."

.

.

Continued in Part 2