We were in the middle of watching Sons of Anarchy last night (pretty manly) when Lisa paused it to attend to getting her delicates out of the washing machine. While she was hanging up her bras to dry on the drying rack, she made this comment: “Hmm. One day there will be, like, 25 bras hanging up on this rack.” ??Snap! It hit me like a ton of bricks: I am alone to fend off three women in my own house. My immediate response to Lisa was, “We really need to finish the basement. ASAP.” The finished basement could be my sanctuary, my salvation, my man-space, if you will. All I really need is a big-screen TV and a bathroom. Maybe a fridge, too. It sounds like heaven …my own man cave.
I can’t be alone out there. There must be other men outnumbered in their own home, forced to toil away in a subterranean “stronghold.” I know, I sound very dramatic (like Lisa, almost) but I now realize I have no idea what I’m in for. Lisa knows, and I swear that’s why she giggles at me every time she looks at me. She has two sisters, and in a house of four women and one man, I’ve seen first-hand what they’ve done to her father.??
What have I done? What have I done.?? Are you outnumbered in your house? Is your spouse?