There are a lot of things that Alex and I agree on.

I can’t think of any right now, but I’m sure there are some things.

What we don’t agree on is a lot easier.

Money.

Or more accurately, I like to spend it and he likes to hold on to it like some tight-fisted miser who could show Scrooge a thing or two.

OK, so maybe that was a little harsh.

But the man falls into the tight-arse category and that can be a little hard to deal with when you fall into the spend, spend, spend category.

Usually we come to some sort of compromise.

But there are times when Alex will put his foot so completely down it becomes cemented to the floor.

Like on the weekend.

I have been thinking for some time that I would like a bike.

Not for anything major – just to ride into Mooloolaba to have coffee with my friends, to feel the wind blowing in my helmeted hair and enjoy the freedom traveling at 2kmh brings.

I knew exactly the sort of bike I wanted to.

And when I walked into Bike Riders in Maroochydore, I found it.

It’s pink. Baby pink. With white wall tyres. And a basket. A cane basket. And a bell.

The seat is low and the handle bars are high and I instantly saw myself riding around the Sunshine Coast, blissfully happy on the bike of my dreams.

Sort of like Grace Kelly in her convertible driving around the Coast line, but on a bike.

Alex didn’t see any of that.

While I squealed myself silly in the bike shop and thoroughly amused the salesman as I attempted to mount a bike for the first time in about 10 years, Alex could only see one thing.

The $400 price tag.

So while I rode around the car park (just to get a feel for it, you understand) and fell in love all over again, Alex just stood there.

Until I started ferreting around for my credit card.

Then he calmly plucked it from my fingers, pocketed it and told me calmly that I wasn’t getting the bike.

So I did what any grown, accomplished, semi-intelligent woman would do in that situation.

I threw a tantrum.

But even as I whined, stamped my feet and called him the meanest man on earth, I knew the foot had come down and wasn’t moving.

He found me another bike.

It’s pink and has a (wire) basket and like a gazillion gears and the first time I took it for a spin it bucked me off.

Alex loved the $100 Trading Post price tag.

I’m planning on selling it and putting it towards the dream bike lay-by.

Because you can’t look like Grace Kelly when you are trying to work out which gear makes the stupid thing go.

Alex’s foot may have come down, but he knows that when it comes to something I really, really, really want (like a baby pink, old school bike with white wall tyres, a cane basket and a bell) I can be just as stubborn about getting my way.

I’ll keep you posted on who wins this latest battle of wills - but one thing Alex and I can both agree on is that we know the other won’t back down.

That’s part of the fun.