Separate Houses Same Bed

The other night, I was out with a group of married women and over a few beers, a couple margaritas and a little sangria one of them said she and her husband wanted separate bedrooms. I know it sounds wrong, but it also sounds good, especially if you spend your nights sharing your bed with children. Not to mention just having a space of your own. It was right when I got to that thought, that I realized, I don’t want my own bedroom. I want my own house with a bedroom adjoining to my husband’s (AKA Viejo) house.
For one thing, if we each had our own houses we could have our own kitchens. If I had my own kitchen I could cook fish, particularly salmon, without hearing Viejo complain about the smell, to the point of saying, he has to go outside. I’d call him a drama queen, if it weren’t for the fact that, I have the same reaction whenever he cooks up a can of corned beef hash. (I swear it smells like hot dog food) Also, I wouldn’t be subject to the temptation of his ice cream, cookies and ridiculously chocolaty baked goods. It would be a beautiful thing and I might actually have a chance of shedding a few of the many pounds I need to lose.
The other main issue I have with sharing a house with my husband is decorating. I am sooo envious of women whose husbands give no input on the décor of their houses. It wouldn’t be so bad if our tastes were even remotely similar. I would say, I am all about form with a dash of function and he is the exact opposite. He would love to have all reclining couches and chairs, probably accented by neon beer signs. While I would prefer a minimalist look. I won’t even go into our endless conversations about electronic component placement. Trust me you don’t want to know. Subsequently, we spend a lot of time negotiating, and have a house full of beige compromises.
Finally, I would miss sharing a bed with Viejo. Don’t worry I’m not going to launch into a tale of our frequent and fabulous sex life. (Are any of those stories even true.) For me it’s just that I have spent the last 11 years going to bed with Viejo and I like it. There is something innately intimate about sleeping together, even without being “intimate”. Where as, separate refrigerators, has no emotional attachment for me.