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Sunday, May 20, 2012

The Gaza Couch

In the history of humanity, there have been thousands of wars, tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of wars.  Some have sounded like this:

In the early years, the Rebel Occupying Forces (ROF) took possession of the disputed territory with a surprise attack.  This allowed the ROF to occupy the space while the United Forces of Dominion (UFD) was distracted with re-supplying efforts at its fortified strongholds.  The ROF occupied the territory following the 6 Minute War.  Pursuant to the Monday Accords signed between the ROF  and the UFD on Monday (not as obvious at it might seem.  Or maybe it is) an interim administrative body was set up to govern the borders, with the ROF maintaining control of the left wing and the UFD maintaining control of the right.  A demilitarized zone was created in the center, including all airspace and surrounding territories, until a final agreement could be reached.

Others have been commemorated with poetry, for all of humanity to remember with a tear and a sentimental sigh:

This day is call’d the feast of Davis.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Davis.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say “To-morrow is Saint Davis.” (wow, that sounds sacrilegious)
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say “These wounds I had on Davis’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-

William the King, Alex and Jacob,
Morgen and Jake, Jonathan and Matthew-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Davis Davisus shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in Woodland now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Davis’s day.


(Bonus points if you can fully reference that selection -- the real one, not my mangled one :D)

No matter how you phrase it, commemorate it, preserve it for posterity, or record it for history -- the sum total of warfare among mankind -- pick a conqueror/conflict of your preference, Alexander the Great, Ghenghis Khan, Attila, George Washington, The British Empire, Israel/Palestine, sheesh the list could be pages long -- pretty much ALL of it can be summed up thusly: 

"He stole my spot on the couch!!" 

The Chaise Longue
The descriptions above do not, in fact, describe actions in the 1967 6 Day War between Israel and Egypt.  The poetic passage does not commemorate the speech of King Henry V as he rallied his troops to attack the French Army in his effort to become king of both England and France.  These are literary records of the battle for the Gaza Couch.  In my family room.

Maybe because I am a female, or maybe because I am now a Mom, I am daily baffled by the intensity that is created over "my spot."  We have a big couch.  It has two wings, a section of chaise longue, and even a pull-out, full-size bed.  Despite all this, there will always, every day, be an argument over "the spot."  The "spot" changes.  Sometimes, it's dead center.  Sometimes it's on the left section.  Sometimes it's the chaise longue. (I really can't pronounce that term without adding a British accent.  It sounds better somehow :D)  The one deciding factor on "the spot" is this:  it is whatever "spot" was just vacated.  

Still going . . .
There is something about mankind that has to have whatever spot the other brother has.  It's already warmed up and made cozy by a bum.  Sometimes it even comes with an accessory warmed-up blankie or throw pillow.  The fights that have happened over "the spot" have resulted in bodily harm and some of the most convoluted rules about "saving seats" that have ever come out of Camp David, oops I mean Davis. (Actually, not much difference there . . . )

In my mother's day, if one wanted to keep one's "spot" in order to get a snack from the kitchen, the following incantation was required:

Saved, no changies, locked, and swallowed the key. 

In our household, it tends to go more like this:
"MY spot!"







Take my spot and I'll pound you.

We've had bruises, broken furniture, holes in the wall, and countless shouting matches over "the spot."  You would think all of human happiness was hinging on sitting in that exact spot.  Truly, no future success could be considered if that spot was lost.  The unfairness of it all cries out for Galactic Justice!  Gimme a break.

So, my method of dealing with this has varied and changed, depending on the current elements of conflict --

"Nope.  My spot."
  • You get your spot back if you had to get up because Mom/Dad asked you to do something.
  • You do not get your spot back if you argued with M/D about whatever it was they asked you to do.
  • You do not get your spot back if you punched a neighboring brother in the process of vacating the spot when M/D asked you to do something.
  • You get your spot back if you get up to help a sibling.
  • Cheerful help earns you the right to the spot for an extra day.
  • All rights to the spot are forfeit if you hit or insult the sibling in the process of "helping." (If this seems contrary to you, you probably don't have a boy.)
  • You do not get your spot back if you hit or insult anyone at any time.
  • Sincere apologies will allow your appeal to be heard.  M/D will determine if the apology is sincere.
  • Insincere apologies will result in additional banishment from the spot.
  • In the case of universal arguing, there will be no saving of seats of any kind.
  • In the case of universal fighting, all rights to tookus occupancy on ANY part of the couch are revoked.  You may sit on the floor or you can go somewhere else.  Like your room.

(mfflemfffle) "Still my spot."
So, really, what the world has always needed is a Mom to say, 

"No, Ghengis, you can't have Tibet.  Someone is already sitting there.  No, if you punch the Tibetians, you will be grounded to Mongolian.  Now knock it off."  

Or

"Sorry King George III.  I am going to let George W (the original one, not the recent knock-off) have the Colonies.  You've been picking on everyone and generally being a bully.  Move it." 

Or 

"Caesar, you can't take up the ENTIRE continent.  There are  other people who need some space too.  Move over."

Wouldn't that have been handy?  Ah well.  Until then, we will always have the Gaza Couch.  Sheesh.  It's just a couch.






5 comments:

  1. I think you should now add how the ultimate threat is that if they misbehave, mom will blog about them. ;-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Already there. Read my FB posts this past week.

      Delete
  2. do I get extra points for reading the st. Crispin's day speech in the voice of Kenneth Braughnouough? MIght have misspelled that. Complete with spittle on my lip and pronouncing remembered " remember-ED" ?? do I get extra points for typing htis with a 2 year old on my head?

    ReplyDelete
  3. And what do you do if the spot is next to Mom and everyone wants it?
    Kim

    ReplyDelete