I’m a man. And I live in a pink palace. But what should I expect? I share my space with four girls.
Sure, I’ve done some manly things in my time. But things are different now. I play with dolls. I go to tea parties. I watch “The Bachelor”—on the edge of my seat. I basically live and breathe pink.
A few days ago, the pink finally got to me. I felt like I was drowning in Barbies and babies and perfumes and pigtails and tutus and teacups. I had to get away. I had to expend some long-pent-up man-ergy. So, I went out to do something manly. I could hardly contain my excitement. There were so many possibilities! Like choppin’ wood or shootin’ guns or cliff diving.
How did I spend my man break? I went to our local coffee shop, ordered a medium iced coffee with cream, and sipped on it as I sunk into a plush chair. There’s something seriously wrong with that. I guess I’ve been pinkified so long that I’ve forgotten how to be manly.
But I was a man once and a darned good one. So know this: next time I get a break, I’m bringing manly back. Next time, I’ll drink my coffee black.
365 Acts of Love 
Oh, you are smart to get away for man time. Men need that as well as women. Next time, get together with a man friend who is the father of boys. He’ll remind you what life before pink was like. Keep up the good work.
Thanks. The post is tongue-in-cheek, but I really did have a breakdown from all the pink.