Having grown up with two brothers, one just 16-months older than me, the other about 16-months younger, I actually got a taste of living in a Man Cave early. There wasn’t a doll I owned that didn’t take a trip on a brother-made boat out onto a pond or hitch a ride attached to the tail of a kite that inevitably ended up strangled in a tree or diving deep into an angry rose bush.
The story of my brothers blowing up my Han Solo action figure with fire crackers is legendary. They didn’t confess to the crime until 20-years later. Continue reading