Saturday, March 12, 2011

I Believe....How to keep a man awake at night

Since we got married, we have always had at least one recliner in the house. 

Ahhh, recliners.  Commonly known as the man chair.

I have never really understood the appeal of them.  If I want to sit, I sit.  If I want to lay down, I lay down.  I don't often feel compelled to combine the two positions.

Plus, I can't eat or drink anything sitting like that without spilling all over the place, and I don't know many people that can.

Maybe that is why they always make recliners out of easy to clean faux leather.   They should make one with a built in wipes dispenser for spills.

I don't get the appeal.  But I know why.

I'm not a man.

About two years ago now, we moved the giant TV and recliner from it's prior home upstairs in the bonus/toy/video game/guest room.  I liked it up there.  It wasn't a giant behemoth of furniture, useful to only one person, occupying a ton of space in the middle of a room that I actually used.  Like it is now.

When it was upstairs, Tom had to make a conscious effort to go up there to watch something on TV.  It wasn't as readily available.

When I told him we had to move it downstairs so Aidan could have that room, he was downright giddy.  I can honestly say it is the first time he helped move furniture without complaining, postponing or whining at all. 

I knew why.  Moving it meant he got his TV and his chair in a room he could use them.  Whenever he wants.

Which is awesome. 

For him, I mean.

For me, it means that I never get to cuddle with my husband on the couch anymore....not that he ever was ever really one for cuddling anyway.  He's got his man chair now, and 42 inches of high definition beauty to go along with it.

Funny that he should have been so excited about it.  To be honest, he doesn't really watch all that much TV now that the chair is down here.  Every night as soon as the kids go to bed, he has a routine.  Pours a beer, then I hear the squeak of the recliner tipping back, and within mere seconds he is out cold.  Enjoying his pre-sleeping nap.

Holding the remote control hostage.


It's like that almost all year.  Except right now.  Suddenly he has the motivation to stay up until midnight if that's what it takes.  He pays attention to the TV, is glued to it almost. 


It's not hard to figure out why. 

It's March.  The month of 24/7 college basketball. 

He doesn't really care who is playing, which is funny considering he hardly watches any games at all before March.  Then he's obsessed with tournaments and play in games and overtime and brackets and seeding. 

Plus this year, his alma mater (and one of mine, almost)  is getting an invitation to the dance. 

The real dance, not the consolation dance.  The NCAA tournament.

Maybe this time around, they'll actually win a game once they get there.

I know one guy who's going to be watching.  Go State!

SDSU's Believe Chant

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