You and Mark have been married for six years, and everything seemed fine to you, however, he started to get sick of you using concrete, and not wood. And afterall, you both were working to much, to where there wasn't enough time for you and him anymore. You just didn't feel the spark anymore. You knew it was a stupid reason, but you just couldn't stand someone using wood instead of concrete. You wanted a divorce.

He was currently working on one of his wooden houses, completely blissful as to the information you were about to give him. "Hm? Oh, hey there hun! I told ye' I wunn't up fer sum tea right now, but I promise I' be ova' lat'r!"