Saturday Sass- WHEN is it MY turn? Anyone?

Growing up, we had one television. One. It was rather large, no remote. And programs came on at specific times. You know the drill. Being the third child of four, I pretty much had no claim to any form of preference of what to watch because I was fifth in line. MAYbe on my birthday, but that still was subject to The Head Honcho's  my father's preference for the evening news. And even though I could try to fight for control with my siblings, it was usually a lost battle. I was shorter and smaller. By the time I was able to be left on my own, I was too busy to watch TV.

Fast forward to present day. This morning, I wake up, come downstairs because I know the hooligans kids will be getting up soon and I would like to have a few minutes of peace and quiet. It's Memorial Day Weekend (Thank you, sincerely, to everyone who has served and laid down their lives for our country!) and so things are pretty relaxed (read: absolutely NO structure) in The B House. The Z Kids come down shortly after I do and begin laying around, watching TV and getting breakfast. 

Note 1: There are THREE (much to my chagrin, yes, I said chagrin) TVs in The B House. 

Note 2: The Z Kids have been banned from the TV in the master bedroom due to the jumping on the bed which always ensues. (And no, I cannot comment on the fact that there is a TV in the master bedroom. Another rant entirely. Trying to limit my rabbit trails here. Which is also another rant entirely. But I digress.)

So back to The Z Kids and TV. We're all on the main floor. Z1 decides he needs a little more destruction action than whichever the chosen cartoon may be and opts to blow things up on The Wii.  I'm enjoying my coffee in the kitchen. Z2 takes over the TV in the family room. After about 30 minutes, coffee has kicked in and I decide it is time for the news. Z2 had put in a movie.

Now, you must know, growing up, when my father walked into the room, if you were in "his seat" you got up immediately. If you were watching the TV, your program went by the wayside without question, comment or complaint. Period. Here was this morning's conversation:

Me, in a quiet, patient voice (yes, I actually have one of those and it comes through occasionally): Z2, I'd like to watch the news.

Z2: But I just started this movie and Zach is doing the Wii downstairs and blabbityblabbityblabbityblahblahblah (insert 10 more sentences to which I did try to listen but was unsuccessful).

Me: (still patient) Yes, I understand, but it is time for me to watch the news with my coffee. 

Z2: But I want to watch The Help and (insert 8 more sentences of ten year old     "But I want MY way!!!" debate.)

Me (less patient): Yes, I know, but I would like to watch the news and you have seen this movie twice and it can wait a little bit.

Z2: BUT (insert 12 more sentences of age ten debate. She'll make a good lawyer one day. No joke.)

Me (no patience, in the voice of Left Ear from "The Italian Job" when he says: I HAAAD a BAAAD Expier'ence.): IIIIII. am WATCHIIIIIING. The NEEEEEWS. 

Z2: (Roll eyes, sigh loudly, huff and mutter) Exits room.

It IS my house, right? I mean, I write the mortgage check every month. When's it my turn to hold the remote? Unequivocally?

Yours, enjoying my coffee and news before I go downstairs to sort The Z Kids out,

Melissa