Many, many years ago, I used to have a man cave. I used a spare bedroom as a "trophy room". I guess I was pretty proud of it. In the fullness of time, my daughter began to refer to the spare bedroom as, "the deadroom". The name stuck....
Flash forward thirty-five years, or so, (different house), and my daughter lives 2,000 miles away, with a family of her own--and I am lucky to have a dozen European-type skull mounts on the livingroom wall.
Heavy sigh.... I still miss my bear rug--and those two fox squirrels, (one sitting with an acorn in its paws, and one just standing there, looking stupid). I can't remember what happened to the pronghorn antelope, the smelly boar head, and the largemouth bass....
At least, I can still fletch wooden arrows on the kitchen table.
Women!!!