The Lazy Chair

“Dad, I want to sit on the lazy chair now!”

“You can sit on it after you’ve earned it.”

The battlefield was littered with stray mismatched socks and crunched up paper sheets. In the middle of No Man’s living room was a young boy, grasping a Styrofoam Minecraft sword and a copy of US Weekly taped to his forearm as a protective shield. He stared down, rather up, a lanky middle-aged man sitting with his knees drawn up on a La-Z-Boy reclining chair. His bespectacled face wore a smile sewn from equal parts amusement and fake disapprobation. He held a rolled up newspaper at arm’s length, parrying the lad’s 16-bit diamond sword.

“One cannot simply sit on this throne and have a grand old day. You must earn its respect. You must carry its responsibilities. And you must duel me for it.”

Fin