The Man Cave

These are men. This is their cave.

Leaning on Newton's Third Law of Motion, which states that every action has an equal and opposite re-action, I believe that the Man Cave is the male version of Virginia Woolf's "room of one's own." Just as women/wives need an area cleared of home and household items (this list includes children, pets and cleaning supplies), so do men need an area clearned of home and household items (which includes children, pets and "honey-do" lists). But whereas women may tend to need an area for crafts, scrapbooking, reading, sewing, mosaic-tiling, painting or just goddamned resting, men need a comfy couch, a few cigars, HD TV with pay-per-view, good ventilation and a fridge for beers or Perrier (for the metro man who happens by the open garage door).

The cave above, owned by my husband's good friend (who is the husband of my good friend), was photographed a few years ago; I was there last night and it has been redecorated, with a large king's throne-like chair in the corner and a couch blocking the entrance from aforementioned unwanted pests and rules. You gotta really want to be in there and, as a wife, sometimes I just steer clear, preferring the bright lights and action of the main house and kids on trampolines.

But last night, I kinda "got it."

Once you get past the smoky air and the low lighting (provided by the glow of an old neon beer sign glinting off various sports trophies), there's a certain charm to the Cave. For one thing, the kids are scared of it, so it's quieter than the rest of the house. And the men are relaxed, peaceful, free of stress. My husband actually smiled at me and put his arm around me while we took in a Will Ferrell movie marathon. Though my friend and I crept inside tentatively to offer pizza to the men, we were welcomed to stay a while, soak up the testosterone, laugh at inappropriate jokes. And, after a loooong weekend with kids (and a morning of crafting with the ladies), it was a welcome re-action to all of the feminine actions in my daily life.

I'm never going to expect my husband to see "Sex and the City" with me or understand my obsession with glitter Mod Podge. But as long as he respects my need for a "cave" of my own, I'll respect his. Heck, I'll even buy the first six-pack.