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.
Me: For the laundry room. That door.
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.
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.
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…
So he can have a man cave all his own.
But I have to be honest.
We’re bringing home that black door.