Sunday, June 15, 2014

Fathers Day In The Man Cave

Today's post is a repost about Father's Day in the Man Cave and about midlife crisis. When the last of the kiddies moved out of the nest the hubby quickly claimed one of the spare rooms in our house as his own. His personal space. A place he can go after work or be lazy in on the weekends. He calls this room his Man Cave and laughs like Tim Taylor the tool guy when he says it. I won't lie. I was scared in the beginning. Giving a guy a room of his own is dangerous due to fears words like a health hazard, toxic, condemned area
could become part of the vocabulary.

Last summer when his room, private area and space cave needed cleaned I told him either he clean up The Cave or the other spare room was going to be turned into The Red Room of Pain. He didn't read that book so he didn't really understand what I meant by it. You would have thought I had said Redrum or something. While we have been able to compromise on his room and the cleanliness of it I do have to say there is a plus side to it all. Giving him this room means he isn't out chasing girls our daughter's age.

I am visiting the hubby in his cave/room with pictures of deer and fishing on the walls, a beer fridge, a window, his desk, his gun cabinet, a TV and a chair for him to relax- his beer drinking chair. I know it sounds like a jail cell I know minus a few amenities and it smells a little like one too.

It isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. It could use some dusting and the picking up and the organizing things with a little female touch It smells like a combination of stinky socks, gym shoes and farts so could definitely is in need of an air freshener!

Perhaps I can talk him into a little pine tree freshener like the one hanging in the truck. I guess I should be thankful. His cave isn't interrupting the other space in the house and it could have been a lot worse than I expected but I am trying to be very respectful with not disturbing his order and his request of,

Don't touch anything! I swear I know where everything is! 

I think I surprised him a little by going in. I try to stay away from the room. If your guy has a personal room or space he calls his own it can bring out O.C.D. in you pretty quick even when you don't think you suffer from it.

There are worse cases of midlife than a man setting in his personal space setting in his beer chair in his underwear, scratching his butt, drinking his beer, watching TV with an occasional fart. He could be in a full-blown midlife crisis right now. The kind of crisis that the talk shows are made of right now which thank goodness he isn't.

I do look for signs of it but would I even know them? What in the world do we ladies look for anyway? Do I look for porn? OR look for Porn sites that he could be visiting on the Internet? He isn't real Internet savvy. He once asked me how to Google. He doesn't even text on his phone. He doesn't lock the door to his room so I can enter anytime he isn't home and possibly dust and straighten up and maybe hide one of those glade solid air fresheners somewhere. OR if I am worried look for those signs that the magazines tell us about.

Is a midlife crisis a guest spot on the Maury Show with DNA, Secrets or Lie Detector Tests?

Some of the things I have read about it I have concluded that...

He has never suggested getting a motorcycle or some muscle type or sporty car to ride around in. He is quite happy in our redneck pickup truck! The more mud it has on it, the better he feels.

He comes home every night and doesn't appear to be chasing younger girls which is definitely the ultimate deal breaker! We have a daughter that age so yes that would be very weird if he started doing stuff like that.

After reading an article on male midlife crisis I learned that it may be me who has the problem in the crisis area.

Like...

It was me who suggested that a couple of nights a week that he get outta those whitey tighties and into something a little more sexier but they just seem to cause him to want to pick his butt. There is nothing sexy about that. He says he'll have to get used to them so until then, we'll just work on that one.

It was me who gave him a coupon for a spa waxing. I didn't get mad when he said, 'you have lost it!' Or when he said, No way No how! There is no way in hell I will do that!

It was me who got us the memberships to the gym.

It is me who got him that male grooming kit for his birthday. Ya know to take care of the nose and ear hairs and other strays.

It is me who goes for hair coloring treatment because I am afraid if I don't just how many gray hairs that I do have.

It was me who encouraged him to make a cologne change. It was also me who sported him with a knock out scent of Curve Crush that totally drives me crazy.

It is me who has searched and Google mapped The Fountain of Youth and suggested going there to vacation.

It is me who frets over our retirement years that aren't even here yet and making wisecracks that it is possible I will have to make a late in life career change at the Bunny Ranch.

It is me who reads the obit's before any other section in the newspaper looking for old classmates.

It is me who has bouts of cyberchondria looking for imaginary symptoms on the Internet.

It is me who obsesses after running into someone I went to school with and comparing how they look today.

It is me who suggests another supplement to our daily vitamin, "look, honey, our hair won't fall out now!"

It is me who worry's about someone younger taking our jobs.

It is me who will start a conversation about our teen years when we were dating and suggesting we start visiting all of those places that were special since our little lover's lane is now an apartment complex.

It is me who freaks out each time I look in the mirror and spot yet another wrinkle in time on my face. The hundreds of thousands of dollars I have spent over the years on the next best secret promising me a miracle!

It is me who got the tattoos.

There you have it, folks! It looks like I am with the midlife crisis- not him AND I guess I should be very thankful that he isn't out searching for his old flames from his earlier days.

© 2014 Gossip_Grl 

1 comment:

  1. Yeah, I guess it is you. And it is all relative. So having a husband who's loyal, reliable, and respectful but for whom sexy undies make him pick his butt, while he gives you space to get lost in his man cave...Gossip Girl, you have a keeper!

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