I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, but I couldn’t help it when he showed me the handmade chairs he had made. He was so proud of the chairs and I had burst his bubble. He thought they would perfect to put in our dining room, but I shook my head. If he wanted to put his handmade chairs in his game lounge in the basement, I was okay. I was not going to put those chairs in the main part of the house. He asked me what was wrong with them. Aside from the fact that three legs were shorter than the other one? He told me that could be fixed, but now he had one leg shorter than the other three. I told him we would soon be sitting on the floor. The back of the handmade chair angled toward the seat and you felt like you were being pushed off the chair. I told him they weren’t comfortable. I had never seen my husband cry before, but I was afraid it was soon going to happen if I didn’t shut my mouth. He stood there looking at the handmade chairs and then suddenly burst out laughing. He took them downstairs and came up with two other chairs. The seats and back were packed and covered with buttery soft faux leather in an odd shade of off-white. They were absolutely stunning and I asked where he got them. He told me these were the real handmade chairs, but he didn’t want me to get my hopes up so the real handmade chairs would be second best.