BUCKING THE SYSTEM: HUSBAND CONS WAY TO VICTORY IN HOME DECORATING WARS

I used to think there were just some places that husbands and wives should agree to declare off-limits in their households.

Like many wives, I laid claim to the kitchen, bathroom, and formal dining and living rooms in my house because I doubted my husband's ability to properly decorate those areas. I had definitive ideas about color and "pretty things" that I wanted, and I didn't want interference from my spouse, who only ventured into those rooms when forced by holidays, hunger or out-of-town visitors.

Because I am typically a fair person, I "gave" my husband our basement to appease his ownership instincts and prevent him from marking my spaces with bad odors, drink containers and rolled up socks he claims are still clean.

But as in most projects Patrick and I attempt, these divisions were doomed to fail. They started exactly right, with me spending long hours in search of the perfect window treatments and furniture. I watched my favorite designer on the Discovery Channel and dreamed of the day I could put real wood bookcases and a charismatic old upright piano in my remodeled "sitting room."

And Patrick went to work, turning the basement into the He-Man Woman-Haters Club he's always wanted. He found someone who could build a bar to his specifications, and he began his search for bar stools that would be both tall and comfortable enough for long evenings of mild drinking and trash-talking with his friends.

All was well in our household as our projects progressed. But when Patrick decided one day to throw out my leather couch and loveseat so he could install a home theater complete with bucket seating "to make you really feel like you're in a theater," I knew it was time to put my foot down.

I immediately moved three, overflowing toyboxes into the basement, claiming the kids didn't have enough room to play, and the He-Man Woman-Hater's Club was instantly converted to a family room. Patrick put up little resistance, deciding instead to move his creative mind into the combination bedroom-office in our attic. He developed an electronic playroom where he and his friends could swap bragging rights in between rounds of PlayStation sports events.

But that didn't work either, because it involved male friends spending more time in my bedroom than I did. Besides, my husband had developed an expensive habit -- buying and framing prints -- and he wanted them all hung in his area, leaving my beautiful sitting room with nothing in the way of art.

So this week I laid claim to some of the best-looking prints, telling him they cost way too much to hang in the attic. I insisted they be hung downstairs where people could properly appreciate them, and after a token resistance Patrick again agreed.

But he didn't just bring the prints. He also brought two corner stands where he could properly display some of the African carvings he's picked up and a collection of figurines he bought me several years ago.

And I liked it. That's when it became obvious to me that a) my husband is just a better decorator than I am, and b) he conned me so he could prove it.

He gave me token jobs -- window treatments, bedroom covers and dishes -- to keep me busy. In the meanwhile, he developed ruses designed to force me to turn over my ownership of certain areas to him.

What I've learned is it takes more than the right gender and a pretty pair of curtains to decorate a home. And although I'm not willing to let go of my dream of wood bookcases and an upright piano in my sitting room, I will concede defeat regarding the attic and turn over decorating of that arena to my husband.

But the home theater -- well, that's still not going to happen..