My husband has a man cave.
And while it's hardly off limits to me, it's mostly his domain.
It has what you'd expect it to have. A dart board. A chess set. A leather couch. A beer fridge. A TV that's only slightly smaller than a billboard.
There's a slew of sports paraphernalia. Where artwork is concerned, hockey sticks and golf clubs are the items of choice.
The husband's man cave has male written all over it.
"I want a she shed," I told the husband the other day.
"A what?" he asked. "A she shed," I said. "It's the female equivalent of the man cave."
We already had a shed, the husband pointed out. We did not need another.
True enough. But our shed does not have "she" written on it anywhere. It houses the lawn mower, the winter tires, the bicycles, the coolers, the power washer, the snow shovels, the leaf bags, the rakes, the extra propane tank and the boy's hockey equipment. There is not a teapot, throw cushion or pair of fuzzy slippers in sight.
OK, I said. So there wasn't enough room out back for another shed. But that doesn't mean I can't still have some she space.
"I'm going to turn one of our rooms into a she place," I informed the husband.
"What?" he said. "You're going to take over one of our rooms?" "That's right," I said. "It will hardly be off limits to you. But it will mostly be my domain."
"Why don't you take, oh, the laundry room?" the husband suggested.
"Forget it," I said.
"There's no room for an armchair. Besides, it has a soapy smell. I think I'll take the little den."
"The little den!" he said.
"I like the little den!" He would like it a lot more in the coming days, I told him, although certainly not as much as I would.
Yes, my she place will have a teapot, some throw cushions and fuzzy slippers. But it will also have some bookshelves, some freshly cut flowers and some bowls of lady fingers. My she space will have some new furnishings - I'm thinking a chaise longue done up in some pretty floral print - as well as some candles, an easel and a vintage chandelier.
"A chandelier?" asked the husband. "I hate those things."
"I didn't tell you whether you could have a dart board," I pointed out.
The husband couldn't argue the point.
At the end of the day, he will have his place, and I will have mine. I'm not yet sure about a chandelier, but there won't be a golf club in sight.
