After seven long months, Chris has his man cave back.
We moved into our duplex last June. A selling point for Chris was that there was an open basement floor plan, perfect for his big screen TV, the furniture I didn’t want in the living room and a space for him to watch his games.
It was perfect for the one month he spent down there.
Shortly after we moved in, Chris’ brother was between apartments and asked if he could store some of his stuff in the man cave and maybe sleep there at nights.
Always a person to help out, Chris graciously agreed to help his brother out. Toward the end of last July, his brother had found a place and moved his stuff out.
Shortly thereafter in August, Chris’ son was in between places. He told his dad it would be a temporary stay. He had more stuff than Chris’ brother and converted the man cave into his bedroom.
Seven months later, Chris and I were beginning to get a little nervous. Temporary meant something different to each of us. And sharing the one small bathroom in our house was beginning to make us all a little testy.
Two weeks ago Chris’ son announced he had found a place and, by the next day, Chris again had his man cave.
We woke up early on Saturday and Chris was pacing.
“Why are you so restless?” I asked him.
“I’m not,”?he said as he made another pass by my chair.
Eventually he disappeared down to the basement muttering that he should get his man cave in order.
A while later I went to check on him when all had gotten quiet. I?found him reclined in a chair with a blanket over him, ESPN on the big screen, his Scentsy burner emitting a much more pleasant scent than had previously been down there. His eyes were glazed over.
“I love my man cave,”?were the only words he uttered.
Sunday when we woke it didn’t take him long to dissappear down to the basement.
Somewhere he had found another blanket and was wrapped like a mummy in two blankets as he reclined in his chair watching ESPN.
“It’s a little chilly down here, isn’t it?”?he asked me.
I shook my head and went back upstairs for a leisurely day of having the remote all to myself and watching whatever I wanted on TV.
Normally I?am not a huge fan of Lifetime TV. I have enough problems of my own without watching hours worth of other women with far worse problems. Chris swears I become a man hater after watching programs on that network. However, Sunday was Killer Sunday on Lifetime that featured movies on Scott Peterson and Drew Peterson. Both men were accused of homicide in the disappearances of their wives.
Page 2 of 2 - I followed the cases when they were national news and I?found it interesting to see how Lifetime portrayed each of the men’s lives until their arrests.
During commercial breaks I would wander down to the man cave to check on my beloved.
Apparently Lifetime TV was getting to me again. Chris said each time I wandered to the man cave the evil glint in my eyes would become more pronounced. He questioned whether he should sleep with one eye open Sunday night.
The final movie ended at 7 p.m. and Chris wandered upstairs shortly before to get some food. “What smells so good up here?”?he asked me while my back was turned to the stove.
“Your favorite,” I hissed, holding a knife in one hand. “And now I’m missing the ending of the Drew Peterson movie that I just spent the past two hours watching.”?
“Honey, put the knife down and go finish watching your movie,” he said. “I can take things from here.”?
When I stalked out of the room to finish watching what was to become of Drew Peterson. I heard him locking up all the knives.
When he had finished cooking and the movie credits were rolling he came by with my plate, handing it to me at arms length.
“It’s time to eat and I think you should put the remote down and back away slowly,” he said to me.
Two hours later I was feeling more like myself again.
“You have to promise me,” Chris said that night. “The next time you have sole control of the remote all day and I’m home, please do not watch the Lifetime network the entire time.”