His first clue should have come when I
told him explained that I wouldn’t be sharing his last name.
With plans to put each of our names on the mailbox, the house-hunting venture began.
We scoured the Sunday paper, followed leads from friends and searched the real estate brochures; I had my list of expectations clearly prioritized.
1. “I Need My Space!”
So began the house-hunting search that ended at 88 Evergreen Ave with a 2 car garage, 2 bathroom, 4 bedroom home …all settled on a double lot.
We have no kids left at home; but still I
told him explained,
“I Need My Space.”
Inside the house you will notice clear signs of the boundaries…
-minus the blue painters tape defining HIS and HERS.
Most obvious is my very own bedroom.
Complete with high-thread count Egyptian sheets and a fluffy down comforter, scented plug-ins from Bed Bath and Beyond, shelves and shelves of books, a night-light and even a coffee maker placed conveniently on my nightstand.
Harbors a man-like scent seeping from his own hamper, a dresser covered with loose change and random business cards.
A t.v and remote permanently set to whatever channel the Andy Griffith show is on, a coat rack covered with a mirage of Boston Red Sox hats and miscellaneous dust bunnies under the bed.
Not many people get this plan. Many ask why we got married in the first place?
..I feel like I have a foot in the best of both worlds
…all under one roof.
The roof by the way… I am willing to share. In the name of shelter.
Although everything is divided in 1/2…I still love him with all of my heart!
But why live together? What do we share?
The kitchen sink. Major appliances. (Until I see a Maytag washer and dryer on sale).
We also share the dishwasher, the vacuum cleaner and the refrigerator.
Let me clarify…although we do share the Frigidaire, HIS food and MY food have their own shelves. My soy milk, organic eggs, and spinach pancakes are kept a safe distance from his whole milk and hot dogs.
So what is there left 2 argue about if everything is so evenly divided?
I don’t care enough about money or shopping (unless it’s grocery shopping in the organic section at Wegmans) to take on the responsibility of managing my own checking account.
The checkbook? That is the only thing out of balance in this house.