In violation of “Man Law”

by Katie on October 21, 2009

Until this week, I was unaware it was possible for a woman to be in violation of a “Man Law,” but I was wrong.
We have this thing in our house. In my kitchen, actually. I’ve mentioned it before. Not fondly. It’s called the Man Closet.
This is what it looked like:
Did I mention this was in the middle of my kitchen? Like, directly across from the butcher block.
This was the last piece of evidence of the bachelor pad our home formerly was. Oh yeah, except for the Hunting Room.
Until two days ago. Now the Hunting Room stands alone.
I started this project while Brandon was at home. I was not trying to be secretive. He was ordering cattle medications and electric fence parts online, so I started this project to keep busy while I was waiting on him to start processing my elk meat.
He walked into the kitchen when I had everything pulled out on the counter and said, “What are you doing?”
“Just keeping busy while I was waiting on you.”
“This is a man law violation.”
“What, an organized Man Closet?”
“No, a woman organizing the Man Closet.”
In the conversation that ensued, I found out his main complaint was he wouldn’t know where things were when I was finished.
Here, I tried really hard to bite my tongue, and I knew it was the wrong thing to say, but I couldn’t hold it any longer and it escaped: “Um, because you really think you know where things are now?”
“Well, at least I know what general area to look in?”
“Oh, like you know to look in the Man Closet?” Oops on that one too…
“You don’t even know what most of this stuff is, so how are you supposed to organize it?”
He announced he was leaving for the farm a little later, so I waved two welding rods in the air and said, “Want to take these with you? Because I do know what they are. And I don’t recall us having a welding machine stashed around here.”
But he replied, “Oh yeah? What’s that thing out under the barn you walk by every day then?”
Oops again…
He eventually left me to my work. During the adventure, I found we owned one of these:
And wondered why in the world there were so many scattered brown paper bags from the hardware store and loose nails and screws lining every shelf in the closet with such a handy tool available.
I even labeled every sealed container to ease the confusion on knowing where things are, and hopefully dismiss his main complaint.
Granted, one of them is labeled “miscellaneous small things,” because that’s about as descriptive as I could possibly get with the random assortment of things I found to place there. But, I even labeled the tool box with “screwdrivers, pliers, heavy duty stapler.”
Neither of us knew we had a heavy duty stapler.
The finished product:
I know it doesn’t really look all that much better. But at least all like items are stored together (all painting supplies in a box, light bulbs stacked together neatly so as not to topple off a shelf so easily), everything is upright (rather than thrown haphazardly in every direction), and there are no loose nails, screws, nuts, bolts, fasteners, etc., floating around.
I was even able to fit in this crate of things, which had been taking up floor space in our office:
Brandon did admit it looked much nicer, as he knew all along it would, and that it needed to be done.
But then last night, he was standing in front of the womanized Man Closet and said, “Ugh! Where are the screwdrivers?”
“The toolbox. The labeled toolbox that says ‘screwdrivers.’ Which should be a logical place to look anyway.”
When he found the one he was looking for: “I had to open the lid. How annoying.”
So it’s a man law violation to keep tools contained inside a toolbox?

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