Compromises

A wise lady once told me that marriage is all about compromises... the sort of friendly "deals" we cut with our spouse in an attempt to keep everyone happy.

My hubby and I struck one such deal this week.

For reasons that are entirely ridiculous unknown to me, Chris has always wanted a 3rd vehicle, a so-called "project car" that he could use to haul trash, install HAM radio equipment in, and otherwise use to hone his fledgling mechanic skills.

I, on the other hand, have always wanted a mudroom, a so-called "dumping ground" for all the shoes, coats, diaper bags, and other such necessities of life that are known to clutter my house beyond recognition. Our (work in progress) basement has the perfect little nook for a petite mudroom, just off the entrance in from the garage which is where we enter the house 99% of the time. That room, however, was usurped by dear hubby when we moved in 3 years ago and dubbed "the radio room," and was outfitted with a rough shelf, a director's chair, a beer light, and HAM radio equipment. I can count on my hands the number of times he has actually used this "radio room."

This nook, this "radio room," has been the source of many sore discussions as we planned out the basement remodel.  And since I have to walk past it every.single.time I go to the garage to get in the car, my dismay has grown by the day that I will forever be cursed to collect shoes from the far corners of the earth.

Thus enters the compromise.

If you had to guess, what do you think you would get when you mix post-holiday Craigslist vehicle searches and one wife's connivance?

Well, hubby got this:

And I'm getting this:

I think it's obvious who got the better deal.  :)