The revolution begins, and every woman should demand parity for the man cave…a she shed.
For some time now, the man cave has enjoyed prominence in home décor. Featuring a ginormous big screen tv, well-stocked bar, and a recliner; an enclave no self-respecting woman would ever want to visit.
While pretending the room doesn’t exist, wives surreptitiously place room deodorizers in strategic locations and close the door. The cleaning lady makes the sign of the cross and refuses to enter.
For generations, children have escaped to a tree house or playhouse for relief from adult interference, but for women, there was no place to escape. We wised up and created our own space; the she shed.
She sheds are located far from the man cave, kitchen and laundry room. Children are told to go to the important place; the man cave, if there is an emergency.
I don’t have a she shed but if I did, it would be something like this:
There would be no tv; soothing music, accompanied by the gentle trickle of a chocolate fountain, would replace the play by play.
No one would dare to disparage my luxurious daybed piled high with as many throw pillows as I want and a coverlet that is “a pain in the ass.”
My mini bar would have an unlimited supply of pinot grigio and white chocolate almond turtles.
Plants and flowers flourish would flourish, and unwelcome indoor fungus gnats would not.
I’m not sure if a she shed will fit on our patio, but I’m checking it out.
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