I fear "my spot," our chaise lounge, is dying. I just heard and felt another spring give. I have sat here for eight years--watching news happen, watching my favorite movies, and reading. I have fallen asleep here, on purpose and unexpectedly. I have been sick here and pregnant here and nursed both my children here. My son sleeps here and hides behind the giant cushion. He and I have read here and shared Doctor Who here. And while it may seem silly to have such strong feelings to a beat up, handed down piece of furniture, I am not ready for an end to our relationship and will keep mending the best I can, as my spot has no care directive dictating no extraordinary measures.
Posted on: Fri, 27 Sep 2013 22:33:50 +0000