Me: Honey, would you mind swinging by the antique store and picking up that door I bought?

Him: Um, what door?

Me:  The black one.  The one with the brass mail slot.

Him: Uhh.

Me:  For the laundry room.  That door.

On Sharing a Home

Him:  You didn’t buy a door already?

Me:  Yes.  The black one. At the antique store.

Him: No, I mean another door. One that’s already at the shop.

Me:  No.  I bought the black one.

Him:  I don’t think we talked about that.  Are you sure we did?

Me:  Yes.  About a month ago.

On Sharing a Home | perfectly imperfect

TWO Hours Later

Him: Are you sure I can’t just build you a barn door for that slot in the kitchen??

Me:  I really had my heart set on the black door with the brass mail slot.

Him:  I love you, I’m not mad at you.

Me:  Oh, Okay (trying not to grit my teeth).

Him:  Well, do you wanna talk about it some more?

Me:  Sure, then.

Him:  I really feel like maybe we should spend the money elsewhere.

Me:  I know, but I really would like to save on something else and finish the kitchen off with this door.  I know it seems silly, but I love this one.  I’ve been searching for quite a while for the perfect old door…I think this is it.

Him:  Well, okay.  Let’s talk about it.

Me: Lord. Have. Mercy. Okay.

On Sharing a Home | perfectly imperfect

Sometimes, you just gotta call it.  It is what it is.  We have different tastes, different thoughts, different desires, different design styles, even.  Sometimes, and by that I mean about once a week, we butt heads.

But any man who lets you bring a bunch of women into your house so you can teach painting classes?  He’s a keeper.

So, through it all, creating this home, it’s a process.  One that requires give and take and more give.

Sometimes you gotta embrace the brown and the brown…

On Sharing a Home | perfectly imperfect

So he can have a man cave all his own.

On Sharing a Home | perfectly imperfect

But I have to be honest.

We’re bringing home that black door.