We must be officially back in house mode because Joe and I had a fight last night, this time over floor register covers. One worn-out Lowe’s trip, I let him buy some that I didn’t really like (the tub filler all over again), thinking I’d return them later and look for nicer ones online. But now he refuses to even look at the other options I picked out.
I’m getting to the end of my rope here. I don’t know how else to explain to him that I am a design-aholic, and these details matter to me, but shouldn’t to him, an engineer.
I obsess over décor blogs; he measures things. I’m form; he’s function. And while I hate to play to stereotypes, name another man in the universe who cares what his vents look like. A straight man.
I could concede a smidge if I had really extreme taste, but I just like things clean and simple—how can you argue with that? I think my husband has design dysmorphic disorder: whenever I show him a catalog and ask him what he thinks I like best, he always points to the most hideously tacky, garish thing. It would be funny that he thinks I have such awful taste if it weren’t so insulting.
But as long as I have to suffer through a fight, it might as well be because I bought what I wanted. Soon, I’m going to experiment with the “ask forgiveness, not permission” tactic. In the meantime, what do you think of my top three contenders for vents (well two, really—I know I’m dreaming on #3)?