I reserved my spot and the TV remote. With much difficulty as you can all imagine. The remote to the family TV can be likened to having the voice with the most gravitas during an argument. We all want it but only one of us can have it.
I started my campaign for the remote early, over the breakfast table. My eyes, if they are indeed windows to the soul, then they were a sandwich-board of messages of bleak doom, unable to open fully yet observant enough to see that the family were in attendance. I offered my morning platitudes and, like a narcoleptic ninja, I made my move. I told them all, this evening, the World Cup Semi-Final is taking place. The TV is mine. The couch is mine. No interruptions will be endured. Repercussions will be swift and severe. I then jumped on my magic cloud and beat a hasty retreat to my Kingdom of Midgets.......I may have fell asleep again at the end.