The Ottoman Empire

It recently came to my attention that grown-ups have matching furniture. And while I have all the responsibilities of a grown up, I do not have matching furniture. What is up with that? So, I brought this glaring problem to Chris's attention last week and he agreed, we are grown ups and our furniture does not match. "Dude, this is not good." I said "We gotta fix this."

Chris tipped his head to the side for a moment made his thinking face and then said "OK, lets go get new furniture."

And so it was decided, we would get new furniture for our living room for Christmas. We went to no less that 9,658 furniture stores last Saturday and after an entire day we selected an ottoman. Yes, an ottoman. Just one. There was drama, and eye rolling, and loud, dramatic sighing and I *distinctly* remember someone (ahem) trying to talk me into an "under the sea" themed fabric pattern but we did not collapse under pressure. Despite the sales people circling like vultures, we held out until we found one that we both liked. And we like it. A lot. And it *coordinates* with our living room which is even more grown up that matching. Or so I hear.

So it was Saturday night and there I sat on the Ottoman. Thinking about what to do next. It was then that it came to me. I turned to Chris, "Do you know what I think of every time I hear the word Ottoman?"

"No, but I have a feeling you are going to tell me." He said.

"The Ottoman empire" I replied smugly.

"Hummm" said Chris "I see the connection"

"Do you know what that makes me?" I asked grinning.

Chris looked over the tops of his glasses at me and raised a single eyebrow. "What" he said with great reservation.

"The emperor!" I roared with glee. "And as emperor, I decree that you should bring me a diet soda."

"Fine" he said walking into the kitchen, "just don't spill it on the empire OK?"

As it turns out, having coordinating furniture does not necessarily mean you have to be grown up. At least not all the time.