The Man Cave. The Den. The Sports-room.
Why can’t a woman have her own cave? Why are we delegated to the bathroom? The kitchen. A nook. The bedroom.
Sure, he gets a room specific to him. We get a “special” use of a common room.
Really, we sooooo want to relax and think sexy thoughts in a container of hot water smelling the toilet’s auto-disinfecting cleanser.
You expect me to get thrilled about a dungeon. Locked away in the dark basement or cement garage. Something that reeks of socks and farts. A place no one ventures into.
How come we can’t have the bedroom? Or the living room? No, go to the cave; we’re underfoot, messing up the just cleaned room.
Damn, why does everything have to smell of lemon and flowers?