Up until a few nights ago, I felt like I was the man of the house.
I based that observation on a number of specific events: I was the only person fitting the profile of “man,” my name was on the house mortgage and I had ultimate control over the television remote.
However, I began second-guessing my role in the family thanks to my son’s cat-like reflexes.
Following dinner one evening, I had retired to the family room and a much-needed dose of televised college basketball.
The non-stop action of people running up and down the basketball court had a calming effect that eventually led me into the quiet solitude of sleep.
However, sometime midway through the first half of the game, I awakened, just as the image transformed from full screen to filling a tiny corner, while the remainder of the television held a schedule of concurrent programming.
Instantly I was awake, feeling beneath my legs to see if I had accidentally sat on the remote control.
Experience taught me to check there first, after other occasions when the television randomly changed channels every time I moved left or right.
In those first moments, I also was reminded of a friend who once sat rocking in a chair for several minutes before realizing that a now-decimated bag of potato chips was behind him.
Once I assured myself the only thing beneath me was a chair, I began looking around for the remote control.
That’s when I saw my 10-year-old son pointing the device at the television, furiously flipping from channel to channel.
“What are you doing?” I asked him in my “dad” voice.
“You were asleep, and I wanted to see what else was on TV,” he replied. “I took it off the coach next to you.”
He continued aiming the remote and punching buttons at a feverish clip — going from cartoons to a family movie and finally, some event from 1984 on ESPN-Classic television.
Once my eyes finally focused on the tiny people moving across the corner of the television screen, I asked him to return the basketball game to an image larger than something requiring use of field glasses to watch.
Although he was frustrated I had awakened, he finally gave back the remote and settled in to watch my program.
Most interesting was that he knew the score, along with highlights of three other programs.
