When I was young they were directly for sitting. The playfulness afforded by a seat with no backing seemed unlimited. I could lay belly down, flying across the carpet as a human bird or airplane. Siting up and using my balance the four legs, points of contact with the ground, could become three, two, or one, as I spun and rotated left and right with pitch and yaw. Maneuvers and choreography developed: right spin, left spin, dizzying 360. A coffee table will not do. Now that I am older a coffee table still will not do, it is not enough. I need the ottoman for my tired feet, bounced around all day, cooped in a cubicle and pounded on pavement. A recliner is good, but the ottoman offers finer adjustments with the free range of decoupling. Not many of my friends’ living rooms have them unfortunately. It seems the ottoman is quickly forgotten and easily deemed unnecessary with a fat couch and thick recliner surrounding a coffee table now most common. Still if there is room for ottomans, and in my living room I make sure there is, nothing else is quite like them.