We had the living room painted to provide a suitable backdrop for the Big Ass TV. (BATV)
Since that meant everything in the room was pretty screwed up anyway, I decided was told that the couch should go over there and my recliner should go where the couch used to be and her recliner should go where mine was and that lamp needs a new shade and don’t forget to fix the window latch and do we really need three dozen on-the-rocks glasses and are you ever going to do anything with that stuff?
I grunted and groaned and passed a little gas as I moved her recliner there and the couch over there and my recliner too.
Let me tell you about my recliner. I am an oversized person. I have an oversized recliner. It goes with the BATV, it’s my BALa-Z-Boy. Sometimes there are three souls in the seat and one on the back. Sofi on the back, Oliver, Derby and me in the seat. There also might be an empty bowl (formerly filled with ice cream), a couple remote control devices, and some magazines.
There are also hidden rewards.
I found my new, free Flip Ultra video cam. The free cam sent to me by a very nice person whom I turned around a stabbed in the back by not recommending her product. Boy-o-boy have I learned my lesson. Send me anything and I will absolutely love it – as far as you know.
Now you’re thinking the cam just slipped between the cushion and arm of the BALa-Z-Boy last weekend. Wrong Benjamin Moore breath.
The cam disappeared six months ago, maybe longer.
I have a habit of saying that things are never lost, just misplaced. Especially things the size of a Flip Ultra Cam. But I looked everywhere, thrice. Repeatedly over the period of months. That’s a triple thrice. I even used the CSI flashlight. Whenever I found myself in a part of the house I hadn’t been in a while, I would look for the cam.
Yeah, when I moved the recliner, the Flip Ultra Cam was lying on the floor.
But I looked there. A hundred times.
Here’s the deal, I could tell by the gouges and scratches on the case that the Flip Ultra Cam had gotten hung up in the mechanism of the recliner.
It wasn’t lost, it was just misplaced. jammed in the jaws of death in my BALa-Z-Boy.
Proof: (not really, you will just have to take my word for it.)