The conversation:

Me: “I’m really glad I make you laugh.  And it’s a genuine laugh, too.”

Mi Amore: “Yeah. but in elementary school, I used to laugh when kids’ pencils fell off their desks.”

Me: (to self) “Don’t worry, Ego.  We can stop the bleeding.”

The resulting word: Egomaniacal Infarction – n.: When your ego is wounded so badly, a piece of it dies.