Why "Panini Love Overdrive"?

Indeed, why?
It all started with an argument. My betrothed and I were perusing our wedding registry, as I'm sure most enfianceed couples do, dreaming of all the magnificent booty we would be awarded for loving each other. Out of nowhere she asks me to decide which of two panini presses I prefer. Previous to this, I had not even known that we were considering panini presses. I began to panic. I never really thought about panini presses, and it seemed to me that we were registered for so much stuff already (an immersion blender, a crock pot, kitchen knives, china, champagne flutes... You get the idea.), that maybe we should take it easy, and hold out for cash.
We both dug in our heels, and proceeded to have at it. I am stubborn and still cling to a perhaps immature sense of anti-materialism. Somehow, this kitchen gadget could only be used to press the corpse of my youthful idealsim into a hot, melty sandwich, and I wasn't having it. From her point of view, we were planning for a time in the future, when we would be settled and have children, and do things like cook for them. To her, it was a talisman, representing an anticipated familial bliss. If I didn't want that panini press, then I didn't want children, either.
It was unpleasent. The wedding was off, or at least we wouldn't be talking until some time after it.
Then I started to laugh. A little at first, then to the point of tears. I was engaged in the stupidest argument ever. Much more than not wanting to be the kind of person with a panini press, I never want to be the kind of person who would argue about one. If she wants it, then dammit, I want it to. We are a team. I'm not in it for the kitchen furnishings, I'm in it for her. I want this device in my house cranking out simple Italian sandwiches for my complex Italian bride.
It was decided that night that whenever wedding discussions get tense, our safe word would be "panini press". We have not had occasion to use it since then.