In our house we have a "Cool Chair"--the one where the cool people sit. It's the one holding one of the doors to the hallway shut; we still haven't quite figured out what that door is for. The first time we walked into the house we tried opening that door from the hallway and our bowab (doorman), Mahmoud, told us that we couldn't open that door. When we walked into the living room we realized why. Now every time someone new comes over, which doesn't happen very often, they try to open that door. It is pretty funny.
This is the chair that I sit on all day while I work. It's the chair that Andrew does his homework on. Andrew and I actually sit on the chair together a lot. We sit on the chair to read emails, co-write blog posts, watch the news...you name it, we're on that chair. It's kind of our study/office/living room all combined into one chair.
Because of this, Ezra also thinks that this chair is the epitome of coolness. Ezra will often just go and sit on the chair. Sometimes when I get up in the morning, he'll pull me over to the chair and then sit on my lap. Sometimes he wants to be on the chair with both Andrew and I. He'll come an wrestle with us on the chair. He'll come and cuddle on the chair. He'll come and steal our headphones so that he can also listen to the news. And sometimes he just uses it to reach the lightswitch.
Because of this, the Cool Chair has taken quite a lot of abuse. It sags more than the other chairs do (not that any of the chairs are incredibly great...) an the foam cushion is more misshapen than on the other chairs. But the Cool Chair is well-loved, so I suppose it was a sacrifice that had to be made. Being cool never was easy.