I took my daughter over to a friend’s house the other day for a “play day.” We can’t say “playdate” in our house. Bridget had decided that the proper term is “play day” and doesn’t like when someone says “playdate.” That’s fine with me because I think the term is overused.

But that’s not the point. She didn’t just get to have a good time with a classmate that day. I came down with a bad case of basement envy.
We can’t use our basement for much more than a laundry room or storage space. There is a small area for Bridget to play, but the place isn’t insulated or heated so things are pretty cold this time of year.

We bought the house knowing that some leaky spots in the walls would prevent us from having a real finished basement. I could deal with that 10 years ago, but things have changed.

My free time is much more valuable. Plus, I have to share the house with two females. I need a place to escape.

Sure, they are generally asleep whenever I do my serious sports-watching or loafing. But I can’t yell at the TV when I’m in the living room. I’ll wake someone up.

And Lord knows a guy needs a place where he can yell at the officials and players, especially when the games are most-likely previously recorded.

I can’t believe how well I have trained myself to celebrate or protest without making a sound. I really should get some sort of award for that.

The basement I visited Saturday had the kind of privacy I crave. And it had a pool table, foosball and an arcade-style basketball shooting game.

I’m stunned I ever left the place. The family is pretty lucky they didn’t find me trying to break into the place late that night.

I really don’t know how I have lasted this long without games like those. Growing up, we had an air hockey table. In college, my fraternity house had a pool table and a place to play ping pong, although we mostly used that for beer pong.

Guys need games in the basement. Video games, a cool computer and TiVo can only fill so much of the void.

There is some hope. I dream of creating areas to make everyone happy. Bridget can have a place to play. Maria can have a place for her stamping and other craft activities.

And I can have a place to drink beer, sit in a chair and yell at the TV.

But it won’t be easy. We will have to use some sort of sealer to contain the leaks in the walls. And we’ll have to get some sort of flooring and make arrangements to make the temperature more comfortable.

That seems like a whole lot of work to make a place to relax. I feel conflicted. I need a place to throw darts without worrying about damaging the walls, but I’m too lazy to do the work and too cheap to pay someone else.

Maybe I can ask the friends we visited Saturday to adopt me. I promise not to yell too loud.