The Not So Easy Chair

  Archie Bunker had a chair.  It was a good chair that he came home to each night after a long day at work.  After a nice dinner, he relocated to his chair where he enjoyed watching television and rested until bed time.   As I headed to work yesterday,  I realized that I do not have a chair like his and wondered where our lives took different paths.   When I come home from work, I've already received numerous phone calls and text messages from my family demanding to know answers to important questions such as, "When is my eyebrow appointment" and "Where are my socks?"   Upon arrival to the house, the dog greets me only because she wants to make sure I don't know that she has been lounging on my couch or nosing through my pantry.  My husband is perched by the pool, donning a red bandanna, dripping in sweat, because he somehow chooses the hottest days of the year to split wood or relocate fencing, both things nobody does in the 104 degree heat. When I enter the house, I have no Edith greeting me with a tasty meal.  I step lightly to avoid a stray Nerf dart that may be flying down the hallway.  The kitchen is quiet and any hint of dinner can be found in the freezer waiting for me to create magic in thirty minutes or less.  The children are armed and ready with beach bags and cell phones ready to be transported to their friend's houses or the ball park.

  Several hours later, I have prepared dinner, done two loads of laundry, waved at my friends as I pass them on the road, traveled miles out of my way to retrieve a forgotten cell phone, dropped by the grocery store for fresh milk and finally returned home where the only chair in the living room is waiting on me with a pile of towels that need to be folded.  This is certainly not the kind of chair Mr. Bunker had and it is clear to me that we shop at different furniture stores.

  While I don't have an Archie Bunker chair, I'm certain that he did not have a band of children anxious to share with him their latest stunts, videos, songs, dances and more.  I doubt he ever walked in his kitchen at two a.m. to find teenagers with night vision goggles engaged in full scale Nerf Combat.  I doubt that he ever looked in his glove box, found a box of mints and said, "Hmmmm  - this looks like breakfast."  Our lives are in fast forward and there seems to be no sign of slowing down and relaxing.  Should I ever find a chair like Archie's, I can only hope that I have a lifetime full of memories to reflect on while I sink down in the comfort of my easy chair.