Inanimate Object

The people keep pushing me all over. Over and over they jab their lanky fingers on my buttons. Once they decide on a channel for more than 2 minutes, I lay their useless on the couch next to them until they decide to once again probe at me with cheese covered or greasy fingers. Sometimes I just decide to sneak away and hide for hours, just to torture them with having to watch the same channel for so long. They’d search and search for me not realizing I was just squeezing myself between the cushions. Maybe next time I’ll be brave enough to throw myself off the couch and hide under it in darkness. I’ll do anything to avoid the poking. But they always eventually find me. And when they do, they only use me for my buttons and then throw me down somewhere. They treat me like I’m trash but in fact I am actually the most sophisticated control in the house, belonging to the big screen in the family room.