A Man's House

Dark blue houses. They would trigger Mom. 

I can't tell you how often, driving through neighborhoods on Sundays, Mom would sneer at them. "You can tell a man lives there!" she'd scornfully lament. Well, uh, men, in theory anyway, have to live somewhere, Ma. And I never was sure what was wrong with dark blue.

Still, we would cruise around a few blocks, whatever town we were in, and invariably there'd be a dark blue house. "Ugh. That's a man's house. You can tell," Mom would assert with disdainfully.

Well, all right then. As you like it, Mom. As you like it.