The Chair

Yes..the Chair. There, next to the lamp with the broken globe, it sat, self-assured, smug in its self-assuredness.
How many times I have desired...no, lusted, to climb into its leather well-worn seat and ponder the mysteries of Life. To sit and drink beer which I could quickly hide behind its back, should the preacher knock.
To watch the evening news and cuss the president while commanding the wife to make the brats shut-up and behave.
To be the MAN of the Chair.
To be my Father.

k