Territorialism

When we stay at R’s parents’ house in Sonoma, we work across from each other at the dining room table. R is finishing the last of his overdue taxes.

E: Do you need the table?
R: No.

Ten minutes later, he lays out four rows of four envelopes each, pushes my laptop and papers out of the way and lays out a fifth row.

E: Excuse me?
R: Eminent domain.

(I wish they’d taken Justice Souter’s house by the way. Brilliant idea.)