Yar! There be a power struggle a'brewin says I

Oh that little son of mine. I'm loving how he's adding new words to his vocabulary just about every day. But he threw a two syllable doozy at me the other day that caught me a bit off guard.

See, as part of our effort to transform our office from the room with the door always closed into a space that human beings can actually occupy, The Ash scoured the local used furniture stores looking for a comfy chair. Ya gotta have a comfy chair, right? And as soon as she got home and I saw it lying there in the back of the car, I knew I was in comfy chair love.

It's like, so imagine if Jimmy Buffett were to take command of the Starship Enterprise. Or the Battlestar Galactica if you prefer, I don't care. But the first thing he would do upon taking command, that is, after he re-christened it the Parrothead or the Margaritaville or whatever, and after he ordered that a margarita machine be installed on the deck, right after he did all that, he'd have this chair installed. As soon as I brought this little secondhand beauty inside and put it in place, I took a seat and knew that it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. A great place to chill, blog, surf, and in the near future, rock a newborn little baby.

Except, see, my son was just as smitten with our new furniture addition. After I got up, he waddled right over, climbed up and had himself a big boy seat.

No big deal, right? Perhaps, like me, he was just excited to have something that was not from Ikea.

Later on, I'm sitting in my chair, just enjoying the hell out of it, when the little GooGoo walks up to me and says a word I've never heard him say before: "Move!"

Wha-huh-what?

Surely my child did not just order me to move. Surely he's doing his cow imitation for me, or he's asking me to get up and come play, but he did NOT tell me to just get up out of this chair so that he can sit here. Except he just kept going with it, repeating it over and over again, growing more and more demanding each time.

So I experiment. I pick the little guy up and put him in my lap. That pisses him off. I try sitting him next to me. Nothing doing. Finally, believing that surely he must want me to get off my ass and go play with him, I get up. I stand, leaving the chair, my chair, unoccupied.

He climbed right in. I moved. He sat.

Oh no my little son. Nothing doing on this one. I'll share anything with you, the food on my plate, the room in the bed, your mom's affection, whatever. But the comfy chair is daddy's.