The lurking shed.

You ever see a shed that looks larger than its house?

I couldn't get the whole house in this iPhone photo, but trust me, there is precious little more to it than what you see. And lurking behind: Shed.

It is not the largest shed I have ever seen, but the house really is a cottage. There's no one in it just now; the people are gone, the for-sale sign is out front. I'd guess it's just a four-room home, big enough for one, maybe a little tight for more. And if it gets too crowded, someone can always sleep in the shed.

Not that I think anyone has ever done it, though, although I suppose you can if the weather isn't too cold. But assuming that's not the purpose of the shed, why did this tiny home have such a large shed?

Lately I've been hearing about the "she shed," supposedly the counterpart to the "man cave." I don't think this really works. I don't know any sheds that have large sofas, cable for a wide-screen TV, WiFi, fan posters, pool tables, card tables, refrigerators, and chip bowls. If you have such a thing, it is no longer a shed, it is a clubhouse. It's no more a shed than the man cave is an actual cave. And if you have a she shed. then you need a real shed, because you still need a place to put the tools and flower pots and lawn mower. Then they start calling you "Two Sheds," and that's just silly.

I personally wound up with no shed at all, as living in the Outer Boroughs convinced my wife that if we had a shed we would wind up with strange teenagers drinking and smoking pot in it. I suppose that's possible wherever you live, but we left the city years ago. I could be Fred "No Sheds" Key, I suppose.

But if I did have a shed, I wouldn't get one the same size of my house, in a gloomy color, and park it in the backyard so it looked like it was sneaking up on my house to eat it.