Have you ever noticed that anything a man makes or deems theirs, starts with "Man"? For example... The man table: a picnic table that has been raised to chest level to partake in beer drinking and other reindeer games. The man tongs: A cooking utensil used for man cooking/grilling that a woman is not allowed to touch. The man stump: Yes, this exists...well, at least it used to. A tree that was cut down and a large waist high stump remained in the ground that was then lacquered and used to lean on and set your beer on when partaking in reindeer games. And lastly, the man chair: Does this really need a definition?
We were given a leather recliner by some friends that had bought new furniture right before Peyton was born. They had that chair for about 5 years before we did so this chair was now a minimum of 8 years old. For our 5 year anniversary, I told Woody that we should invest in a new recliner since the old one had certainly seen better days. It got to the point that when you would sit in it, it would rock back and stay in that position. You would have to pick your legs up and throw them down in order to gain momentum to actually get out of it. Since Woody was working on our anniversary, I decided to take Peyton out and do a little recliner "pre-shopping". This is what women do so when it comes time to make a purchase we can "sway" our man into making an executive decision. You know, "Oh, great choice honey"....or so I thought. So Peyton and I ventured out and hit about 6 furniture stores trying to find what looked good, felt good, the best protection plan/warranty, and the best price. I found a recliner that I fell in love with and even emailed Woody several pictures to see what he thought and he agreed with my #1 choice! Or so I thought...
The next day we went to the furniture store and found the very helpful salesman that had helped me the day before. Woody sat in the chair, liked it, and it seemed like we were about to purchase our new recliner...or so I thought. Woody stood there staring at this chair like he was about to ask it to marry him. I asked him if this is what he really wanted and my sweet man did his normal mumble/him haw stalling tactic. I then said to him, "Why don't you look around and I will take Peyton to where the theater seating is to watch a movie." That was a mistake. Woody walked around the store while Peyton and I sat and watched Kung Fu Panda. When he found us, I saw him looking at the row of seating behind us with big, twinkling stars in his eyes. I got up and look behind me and there it is. A row of 3 chairs that can be purchased individually (hooray) or as a group. These bad boys don't even have a lever on the side to extend the recliner, oh no....they have buttons. Yes, they were electric...In my mind I now can see my curious 3 year sitting in this chair for hours messing with these damn buttons. Ummm, is this covered on the protection plan? Of course it is! Hooray.... Oh, and did I mention the cup holders? Oh yes, it has cup holders. He sat in it, reclined in it, enjoyed it, melted in it, fell in love with it....well, I'm screwed. He asks me if this is what I wanted since it was OUR anniversary gift and I did something that I never thought I would do. I shut my mouth. I said that if he really liked it, then we could get it. Now, the reason I said this is because at that very moment I realized something. Everything in our house from the tile, the wood floors, the paint, the bedding was what I wanted....everything. It seemed like if I wanted it, he just agreed to it to make me happy. I mean, I don't think he just agreed to it....if he REALLY didn't like it, he would of said something but still...poor guy just shuts his mouth so he doesn't have to hear mine. So we bought this monstrosity of a chair. When it was delivered, I sat in it and immediately didn't fall in love with it. It's comfy, just not exactly what I wanted but it's not like this chair is the only piece of furniture in the living room. I have a big, comfy couch that I can sprawl my fat butt out on so I'll shut up.
It didn't really hit me how much I disliked this chair until I got a stomach virus. I was laying in this chair feeling like death when nature started to call. I sat up to push the recliner down and quickly remembered to push the button...push the button....PUSH THE BUTTON!!!!! Oh God! I didn't think I was going to make it! It first has to sit up and then the recliner sllllooooooowly is put down. Thank God I made it to the bathroom in time...otherwise, that protection plan would of been put to use pretty early. Later, I laid back in the recliner and the phone rings....here we go again. I am not kidding you when I tell you that by the time this chair was back in the upright position, the answering machine had picked up. Then I started thinking, what if I am subjected to a home invasion? A fire? Does this thing has an escape hatch? Let's just say that my paranoid self will just sit on the couch from here on out. Oh, and might I add that he decided to take the old recliner to the fire station. I told him it was broken and then asked why he would take it up there. You know what his reply was? "I fixed it." Just when I think I'm so smart....enjoy your man chair.
