There are things that will never, under any circumstances, enter my home. I’m not opposed to hunting trophies – in fact, I like them and wouldn’t mind adding a few to my home. Heck, a good buck or maybe even a warthog would look really good on my wall. I’m not opposed to animal skins, antler chandeliers or candlesticks (real ones – in small doses). I love the vintage hunting and shooting themed prints that hang on the walls of our reloading room. Parts of my home bear distinct resemblance to a Sportman’s Warehouse Outlet store. Nobody told me these things would happen when I moved in with a man who is not only an avid hunter, but competition shooter as well. I’ve always been outdoorsy, but this is a new level to me.
And then we went shopping for furniture... It was time for my reeducation to begin.
Recently, we were in the market for some new living room furniture; Darling Man spotted some of the latest furniture offerings and remarked they were available in four camo patterns and a leather/camo combo. This said with desire dripping from every syllable. I thought he was kidding. Really. It took me a full minute to realize he was serious. It took me another full minute to decide how to calmly explain his reloading room was his to decorate as he wished (and don’t go feeling sorry about him being relegated to an itty-bitty room, either – he’s got all the room in the world, and it’s his space to do with as he chooses with absolutely zero input from yours truly!) but, we had agreed to collaborate on the rest of the house. I promised to tone down the “frou frou” factor and he promised to avoid frat-house chic.
Maybe if you have a lodge that is specifically designed for hunting excursions, and that’s the only time you use the place – maybe then I could understand decorating in the latest camouflage-pattern upholstery. I might even consider it in some wood-paneled, testosterone-soaked den, maybe even in the basement. But, it ain’t gonna fly in my living room, buddy!
Thus, I was surprised he seriously wanted this camo furniture. Not only wanted it but seemed disappointed when I balked. I decided right then and there – I am living with a man who could define the knuckle-dragging-Neanderthal department – with massive apologies to John Connor of American Handgunner and GUNS Magazines, who truly believe claims the title of King of the Neanderthals, this guy may well have him beat. And so, I put my foot down, via a whole lot of cooing, wheedling and many other tricks of “feminine wiles”, yes, but I put it down.
We didn’t get the camo furniture, but just to make sure he’s kept happy, he got a bunch of new toys along with the nice, non-camo living room furniture. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do, afterall.
