Most women are genetically programmed to hate LA-Z-BOY chairs.
Maybe it’s the name..
I mean why not LA-Z-GIRL… huh?
Maybe it’s because these chairs crowd out all the other furniture in a room. Finding the right spot for one of these monstrosities is like finding space for a truck that transforms into a boat, a bar-b-que that morphs into an ATV, a gun safe that balloons into a hot dog stand on wheels. I mean seriously, how do you design a room around that?
Maybe women hate LA-Z-BOYS because of the spell these chairs cast over the men who plop into them. Its like they are strapped in,
temporarily paralyzed..and there’s no miracle healing until Arnold Schwarzenegger has killed every last alien. There’s this unspoken understanding that once that bottom part is in full crank-out position, the occupant of that chair is officially unavailable.. as in “Oh, I’d get up and let the dog out honey but look at my chair here..I’m fully extended- sorry.”
Maybe it’s because these things are usually only available in ugly colors like wet dirt brown and mountain tire black.
Maybe it’s because they have slots for beer.
Maybe it’s because the person in the chair has squatter’s rights to the channel changer.
I don’t really know what it is, but I no longer need to figure it out. We are getting our new flooring installed on Monday and I was able to convince my better half that it was time to find his LA-Z-BOY a new home before it leaves permanent gouges in the wood. I actually think I saw him shed a tiny tear as he dragged it outside onto the front porch where it would wait for the Salvation Army truck to pick it up. I’m not sure he was this emotional watching our eldest child wait for the bus on her first day of school..
Good thing Overstock.com delivered our cool, new barstools within 24 hours of that long, tortured goodbye. The instructions alone were an effective diversion.