I'm not Rob's "Right Hand Man"
Nope, I'm his Left Hand Man as evidenced by the seating arrangement we automatically took after setting up our new living room chairs and end table. Well, I suppose "Living Room" is a misnomer since it's actually one big open space so "Entertainment Area" might be a better term. Either way, we skipped the traditional couch and loveseat (not enough room) and opted for two chairs and ottomans with an end table between them. Facing the TV, of course. I took the chair on the left and Rob took the chair on the right to determine if the spacing was comfortable between the chairs and the TV. We decided it was good and went about our other business which didn't involve sitting in the chairs. Our dog Irene discovered the new chairs and decided to jump up in my chair. She would sleep in it off and on over the course of several hours, but always in my chair, never Rob's. I made several laughing comments to Rob about it and then I wondered why we had automatically decided that the chair on the left was "my" chair and the chair on the right was "Rob's" chair. It was this weird unspoken agreement between the two of us, a seating arrangement taken on autopilot and I thought that a bit odd. Odd that is until Rob figured out the obvious reason. He is left-handed and I am right-handed. He wants the end table on his left and I want the end table on my right. Duh.