I Cried Because I Had No Seat…and Then I Met A Boy Who Was a Total Butt

The road to Val's laptop is paved with no intentions.

This is what I discovered this morning when I sat down in Hick's La-Z-Boy to have my chair nap.

My living room floor was like an elephant graveyard, only for computers, and not at all secret. You could break a leg in there. Or be snatched up toward the ceiling in a trap by inadvertently stepping into an ankle noose. But if you fell and became incapacitated, at least you would not dehydrate, because you'd have a bottle of water, and a red Solo cup from which to sip.

The scope of this carnage was too wide to be captured in one photo from The Pony's phone. Many tools are not even visible here, in the main path from the La-Z-Boy to my laptop in front of the window. Forget about resting my ample rumpus on the end of the coffee table. There wasn't even room for a coffee table book about coffee tables on that thing.

All this, after only last night Genius apologizing for filling the long couch and the short couch with his college detritus. And by apologizing, I mean that Genius huffed in the manner of older adolescents and young adults when called out for their various and sundry atrocities, and rolled his eyes, but stopped short of backtalking.

Note the time of 5:43 a.m. A time when Val should have been lightly snoring for five more minutes before being wrenched from her recliner slumber by Hick stumping across the carpet on his footless ankles from bedroom to kitchen to yank open Frig II's freezer, crinkle the wrap on a sausage/egg/cheese English muffin, fling it into the microwave, and slam that door with two drawer handles.

So severely was the floor mined with computer accouterments that Val was required to sit tight in the La-Z-Boy while the loyal Pony trotted upstairs (located just behind the long couch) from the basement to detach her laptop and deposit it in her lap. Where a laptop certainly does not belong during Val's 15-minute interlude each morning while drugging and breakfasting.

I suppose Genius did not see the error of his ways from Sunday when receiving that lecture for taking up five of the six available living room seats with his stuff.

There is none so blind as a sophomore home from college.