Musical chairs: Kitchen edition

At our kitchen table, Rick and I sit like royalty. We don’t just have chairs—we have thrones. Big, padded, roll-around, swivel-if-you-please thrones. They’re perfect for morning coffee, late-night card games, and spinning dramatically when one of us wants to make a point.

The problem is, we only own three. So when more than one person drops by, someone’s bound to be left out of the royal lineup. Rick and I have our thrones locked in—no question about that. But the second visitors hear us call out “Come on in!” the battle begins.

All eyes go straight to that third chair, like it’s the last parking spot at Costco. Next thing you know, they’re shuffling and elbowing like kids in a game of musical chairs. One lucky winner claims it, and the rest are left scavenging through the house—dragging one from the computer desk, another from the living room corner, maybe even hauling in a chair off the deck if we’re feeling generous. Meanwhile, Rick and I just lean back in our cushioned glory, rolling up to the table like royalty who know their seats aren’t going anywhere.

You know the type—they swivel, roll, and go up and down like a mini amusement park ride.”

But let me tell you—when those hydraulics quit working, it’s not pretty. One minute you’re sitting tall, ruler of the realm, and the next you’ve dropped so low you’re practically eating dinner off your knees, looking up at everyone else like a kid at the grown-ups’ table.

And don’t even get me started on the ones that rock when they shouldn’t. Nothing like trying to cut a piece of meat while your chair tilts back and forth like it’s deciding whether or not to dump you on the floor. Still, that’s the price of royalty. Because the best part about being King or Queen of your own home is this: no matter how squeaky, sinking, or wobbly they get—you get the good chairs.

Rick’s sister Kathy knows all about the chair—the one that wobbles like it’s had too much coffee. She’s gotten smart over the years and now makes a beeline for Rick’s chair, leaving him stuck with the shaky one. Honestly, I can’t blame her. That chair is a trap waiting to spring. You can just picture it: the seat finally giving up, snapping loose from the base, and shooting backward while the wheels roll one way and your dignity rolls the other.

It’s not just my imagination either—it already happened once to Cooper. One second he was sitting there minding his business, the next he was on the floor, looking like the chair had swallowed him whole and spit him out.

I’m torn between biting the bullet and buying a new chair before it breaks, or starting a family lottery to see who’ll be the unlucky one dumped on the floor when it finally gives up. My money’s on Cory—Kathy’s way too cautious to take that risk.

So what do you think—do I finally buy a new throne, or let fate decide who the next victim of the wobbly chair will be?”

💬 “Nothing says ‘welcome home’ quite like offering your guests the chair most likely to collapse.”