Sometimes people have differences of opinion. And sometimes those people happen to be married.
And sometimes, in the midst of explaining that there is a difference of opinion, one of those people will say to the other one, "Hey, your opinion is different from mine!" but not in those words, and at the top of their voice, possibly brandishing a spatula, which had been in transit from dishwasher to drawer.
This gesture will confer upon the gesturee a series of unique abilities. As the spatula ceases its movement, its victim will find that he or she can now read minds. He or she can now instantly penetrate the hidden meanings behind the most innocuous utterances. And he or she now has sudden, crystalline insight into the emotional effects of substandard and deviant maternal influence.
These miraculous powers will be demonstrated at once, to a hostile and unreceptive audience. "Boooo!" the audience will say, but not in those words. "I disagree! Other verbiage would be more accurate!"
Fortunately, at this point, sometimes the cat will begin to vomit. Somewhere. From some echoey crevice in their thousand square rented feet, their furry surrogate child will do battle with abdominal demons.
If this happens, the people will find that they have found some common ground. Their difference of opinion will not be "set aside", so much as the universe will take this opportunity to reposition the disagreement more appropriately within the natural hierarchy of ideas.
Later, when these events are reflected upon, it will seem as though a great deal of time was wasted. Then the realization will slowly dawn that this is how human relationships are kept strong, not through static maintenance of strong but brittle bonds, but through the flexing of interpersonal emotional muscles and the strengthening of spiritual connective tissues.
This will be fine.