For Graham’s birthday in a couple weeks, we are going to have a small dinner party. We’re going to try out KitchIt and have a chef come do the cooking and cleaning. Which means all I have to do is the fun part – the table setting.
I want the table to exude manliness. I want you to walk in our front door and get smacked in the face with the smell of musk. I want antlers and beer and wood chips spattered across the table. I want people to yearn for the Tim the Toolman call of Home Improvement. You know the one. I want plaid upon buffalo check upon camouflage. Testosterone!
If the men leave with more hair on their chest, a hoarse voice and some dirt under their fingernails then I’ve done my job.
If the night does not end with all of us chucking all pink decor items off our roof, well then, Houston, we have a problem.
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