What would you do?

Monday morning, after nearly being eaten alive by the flipping recliner (see below), and finally realizing I would live to see another day, I decided to test my four sons.

To begin, I have to tell you that although I don't smoke I have hundreds of ashtrays stashed in my basement. About 10 or 12 years ago I decided to start collecting ashtrays because, I figured, some day smoking was going to be outlawed except in your own home.

Everyone in the family thought I was nuts -- and still think so. It's a running joke in the family as to who will be burdened with unloading those darned ashtrays after I'm dead.

So this is what I wrote to my four boys:

* * * * *

I need each of you to answer a question.

I call you to come to my house to help me. You walk in and find me in my recliner tipped backward. I am stuck tight and can't move in any direction.

Would you:

A. Fall on the floor and laugh hysterically for 10 minutes?

B. Go back home to get your camera so you could have a picture to show everyone?

C. Rush in immediately, set my chair upright and stick around for a while to be sure I was OK?

Remember, how you answer this question may determine who gets my ashtray collection.

* * * * *

Bryan, No. 1 son, calls me shortly after I sent out the e-mail.

"I would help you get up and make sure you were OK," Bryan said.

Good kid. I raised him right.

Brett, son No. 4, said he would immediately take a picture with his cell phone and then help me up.

OK, that's not too bad, another few seconds in the jaws of the recliner could be tolerated if he was going to use his cell phone.

Blair, son No. 3, said, "I would take a photo with my cell phone and then fall on the floor and laugh hysterically for 10 minutes."

"Well, Blair, as of now you have won the ashtray collection."

"You mean I had the best answer?" he asked.

"No, so far you've had the worst answer."

There was silence.

"It just dawned on me," Blair said, with a touch of disgust, "I get the ashtrays, don't I?"

"Yes, Blair, you get the ashtrays. What I failed to tell all of you was that the ashtray collection was the booby prize."

However, this was Blair's lucky day. I hadn't heard from son No. 2 yet.

Bruce, No. 2 son, called and surprised me by saying, "I would grab the ashtrays and run while you couldn't stop me. They might be worth something in a hundred years or so."

Congratulations, Bruce. I'm not sure where you'll store the ashtrays, but I'm going to start boxing them up right away.