The wife and I bought a set of leather recliner lounges not too long ago. You really know you’ve made it when you have a recliner. You can sit back, yank out that footrest and relaaaax. There’s something really special about the way they fold back with little effort on your part and cradle a work sore body. Fantastic.
We got the huge, heavy bastards set up in front of the TV. One of us had already decided which person would sit where and, for better or worse, that recliner became ‘theirs’. (This is the same person who has to sleep on a certain side of the bed no matter where we go too.)
We get comfy and are admiring the way they feel when I accidentally scratched the arm of the wife’s chair with my fingernail. She’s so annoyed by this I have to file that action in my brain under ‘things to annoy the wife with’. As I’m laughing and twisting around to prevent being slapped a ‘sproing’ sound comes from ‘mine’.
I stopped laughing.
Surely I couldn’t have broken it that fast. I’m no lightweight but I don't need to visit Abdul the Tentmaker to get my clothes made yet. I tried to find this irritating fault but the difficulty of replicating sitting on it while checking out the underside at the same time defeated me. The wife laughed cruelly at my misfortune.
I was disappointed. It wasn't fair. Once again karma unfairly targets me with bad luck even though I’d done nothing wrong. I craftily thought about swapping my chair with hers. I would have too but she said, “Don't try swapping chairs,” which kind of buggered that idea. I think I’ll just stick something lumpy into her lumbar support cushion.
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