It's a good thing they're cute when they're mad.
I remember once, my wife wanted to have an argument, about what I forget. She accused me of some minor misdemeanor, like leaving the toilet seat up or putting the butter in hydrator shelf. I owned up right away, saying I shudna done it.
Unsatisfied, she beat on my chest with her little fists, her eyes glowing red, a firey glow emanating from the tiny follicles on her head, as she drove her point home. "Whadda ya say to that! Whadda ya say to that!", she demanded.
I gently held her shoulders in my hands, drew her up against my chest and said, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more temperate and more fair." Game, set match to Lonesome. Best make up sex ever. Try it.