2 asses, 3 cushions, 0 seats

Ugh. I can't sit on my own couch. Why? My husband's ass is on one cushion, and his paintball gear is spread akimbo on the other two. I told him I could sit next to him if he would please move his gear, or I could go upstairs and find a seat at my computer (he hates when I go play on the computer and ignore him.) He was silent for like 5 minutes, so I went upstairs to the computer. He gets mad that I'm going off to ignore him. I get mad and yell that had he not just given up and sat there like a lazy lump, maybe I'd sit next to him and spend time with him. And he still isn't moving the gear. And can't understand what I'm mad about, since clearly, his anger over something he could change is entirely rational, and my anger over him blaming me for it is psychotic. Clearly. (The best part? "You didn't even say please or ask nicely!" Ummmm, yes I did. Selective memory, I'm sure.)