R&R from Iraq
Ding Ding Ding!
In one corner, The Mistress weighing in at *** pounds (haha didn't think I would put my real weight did ya?) in the red, white and blue trunks. In the opposing corner, Lazy Boy recliner standing in at 50 pounds donning all black leather attire. Opponents face each other and knock gloves! Let's get ready to RUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMBLE!
I could only wish. What I would not give to have me vs the dreaded armchair thief in a boxing match! Perhaps me with a chainsaw and an open field. How about riding down the interstate with no ropes holding the chair on the roof? Dropping it from an airplane at 20,000 feet or throwing it overboard from a ship only to sink promptly to the deepest darkest depths of the water. I am personally leaning towards using it as a punching bags on most days, but I would only hurt myself!
So what's my beef with the recliner? Well, as you can see from the picture above, it is just a chair. A chair that his mother and I saved for months. A chair that we were so freaking excited over because his old one was literally falling apart at the seams. The old chair I could not wait until we got rid of it being his bachelor days had obviously taken its toll on it. So we saved every dime, went without things, and bought the biggest chair Lazy Boy made for my 6'5 husband. This chair rocked our boys when they were babies, and comforted me when he was gone because it just seemed to retain the scent of him. My favorite thing about this chair was the many times my husband would pull me down onto his lap and we would talk, laugh or just sit and watch tv.
Now the chair has become an albatross in our marriage............
Since Iraq, the chair has now become his primary habitat while he is here. During football season, the chair is the main stadium seat in front of our television. Now I don't blame him for the football, because after all he is a man. I do however, resent him for sleeping in the chair rather than coming to bed. I can't even remember the last time we actually slept together a full night in the same bed together. Often times, I wake up at 4 a.m. and he is sneaking in under a medicated fog and tumbles in. Most of the time, I go to bed with the last statement of "I'll be there in a minute" only to find the next morning that he has slept all night in the chair. I don't understand why he waits to take his medicine so late at night when the trazadone (medication to combat nightmares) knocks him on his butt so badly. I have often times tried to stay awake late at night so I can remind him to come to bed, only to get up early the next morning with the boys to find him still in the same spot as I left him.
We have, because of the sports, placed an additional television in our bedroom so I could watch what I wanted to when the main one was otherwise occupied. I have explained on many times that he could take his meds, watch football in the room, and fall asleep in a normal manner. He claims that its because he needs to unwind and before he knows it, the meds kick in and he doesn't mean to. I know I should not worry too much about it but the damn chair plays havoc on our bedroom life! It's not just about sex...its about the snuggling up to the person you love. We are "spooners" and I just sort of feel lost when he isn't there. I have brought this up and he does say he is sorry, that he doesn't mean to, but it never changes anything.
I feel like I get a couple of hours when the kids go to bed but that is it. There is a void besides the small table in between the couch and the recliner, that I can't seem to cross over. I miss the closeness I feel and security when I am snuggled under the covers with my husband. I wish that the recliner came with an automatic "dumper" so when the time to come to bed is near, it just automatically dumps his ass out and he will then come to bed.
Until I can find a way out...it will be me sitting here looking at this black mammoth and pondering how many ways I could destroy it. It saddens me deeply that a chair I was so proud of working hard for, has suddenly become the object of my resentment.
Death to the Lazyboy,
PS. My son wasn't that chunky, he was just so squished up in daddy's crook on the arm that his face was pushed out, giving mommy the reason to take the picture so I may embarrass him in front of future girlfriends. Many thanks to WT for my snazzy new signature!!