How to tell a MAN's man when you see one

I previously alluded to the adventures of decorating with a BOY in the house. Before I begin, you must understand two things. First, that I had never (and I do mean NEVER) lived with a boy before I got married. First there was just my mom, and then there was the typical montage of college-aged female roommates. (Those adventures are a whole different story. Or several.) Anywho, the point is that there were NO boys. The second necessary background item is that Steve is a sports FAN. Yes, that's FAN in all caps.

When we decided to get married, Steve said he didn't care about details like what color our comforter was or what pictures we hung on the walls. This was slightly (or a lot) less than accurate. Considering he thought I was making up a story when I told him we needed to choose colors for the different rooms in our house, the guy is surprisingly opinionated about where the furniture goes, which picture is appropriate above the TV and, ironically, what colors we use.

Looking back, I suppose I should have seen it coming when he suggested we change our wedding colors from black and silver to black and gold because he doesn't like the Raiders.

Anywho, well-assured the decisions would be quick and easy (since I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted and my fiancee had declared himself un-opinionated), we ventured into the world of Wedding Registry (yes, this is now a proper noun). I was quickly disillusioned. We spent more time talking about the color of our future sheets than we had on previous conversations about having children. The multi-colored couch from his childhood (now completely threadbare in several places) turned out to be a dealbreaker - apparently it came with the husband, take it or leave it (I took it). And the comforter...oh boy. Let's just say we took SEVERAL trips to SEVERAL locations before finding one we both liked enough to look at for at least a few years.

The crisis moment came as I was explaining what it means when people designate colors for certain rooms (for those of you still in the dark on this one, choosing red as a color does not mean you have to paint your walls red or uproot the existing non-red carpet). I explained that in a living room, colors might have to do with what you hang on the wall, or maybe some throw pillows. Steve, unsuspecting of saying anything out of the ordinary, announced that he had some things we could hang on the walls.

"Great," I said. "We'll have to look at our pictures together and decide where we want to hang what."

"Yeah," he said. "And I have a bunch of jerseys we can hang in the living room."

I paused to evaluate. He was not kidding.

"What?"

"I have some jerseys we can hang up. And some model cars, too."

Mmmhmmm.

"You do realize that a result of getting married is NOT being a bachelor anymore, right?"

He failed to see what this statement had to do with hanging jerseys in the living room. It was quite a let-down for him to realize (after a lot of conversation on the subject) that living with a girl meant the living room would not be decorated with toy cars and sports paraphernalia.

I have to say that he had the advantage over me on this one - having grown up with both dad and mom, he had definitely lived with a girl before. And I have never seen jerseys on the wall anywhere in his parents' house, let alone in the living room. But living on one's own for a while does tend to give one ideas.

In the end, we came to a lovely compromise. No jerseys in the living room, but we have an office that he has free reign over. And I will say he has improved - he is no less opinionated, but he'll usually give me the benefit of the doubt when I make decorating decisions, even if he's not happy about it. Although I know he still questions my sanity for preferring the multi-colored, threadbare sofa covered in a simple black fabric (it looks MUCH better).

And I guess that's what marriage is all about - finding ways to let the other person have what they want even if you think they're a little bit nuts. That's what Steve does for me, and half the time I qualify as a lot a bit nuts! More on my quirks later; let's just say I probably got the better end of the stick on marrying into quirkiness :)