Something tells me the man with a well-appointed home, oozing with masculinity and confidence, is also no stranger to a closet full of fine clothing. After all, none of these rooms resemble the color palette and feel of tired basketball shorts and a faded t-shirt with a hole in it. If you have been reading my blog for a long time, perhaps you remember my oldest son's college house...decorated by Craig's List, complete with black pleather couches with neon lights on the underside, casting a wonderful blue hue to better see the dog hair on the floor. Son #2 gets his apartment this summer in Baton Rouge. Learning from last year's dorm move-in, he had 20 perfect minutes (before I left) where the bed was made, the monograms were in place, the tissue box peaked out beneath the coordinating lamp and all was right. I was NOT invited back this year to decorate the apartment!!! Not only that, I was told, "If you come, you will want to make it perfect and I am finally going to get that low, modern bed I have always wanted." To which my response was, "Fine...get that horrible stuff out of your system!" It was all in good fun - he was right - everything would bug me so it's better for me to applaud his college choices and hope I am invited to decorate for the post-college place. I will not say anything when dust bunnies and tumbleweeds whoosh away, a few short feet from his face. I will simply smile as I make a spot in between the clothes on the bed and hope I can stand again after sitting so low to the ground. It will be fantastic - Geaux Tigers...
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