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For the last two years, whenever I’d been staying at Hubby’s, he’d make me sit on one very uncomfortable wooden folding chair after another in front of the computer. I even had to steal my own cushion out from under the cats purring away sleeping in the old armchair.

Those folding chairs would, one by one, fold under our respective weights – you know, Hubby is actually quite the gentleman and would, from time to time, offer me his comparatively comfy swivel chair and take the folding chair himself. The first wooden chair perished all to pieces and with a real bang under Hubby when we had dinner watching a DVD one unsuspecting evening. The second payed its debt to nature under yours truly when we had another dinner watching another DVD another unsuspecting evening. Makes me think whether maybe the having dinner part had something to do with all that… Maybe we oughta switch to lighter fare. On the other hand, those chairs might have just been the crappy junk they looked and felt.

Today, Hubby told me the last of the folding chairs had a slivered leg and he wouldn’t stand for me sitting in that piece of crap any longer! So to IKEA we went and had a look around. Here’s the little baby Hubby bought as an addition to the careful interior design of his room, for me to sit in exclusively:

Ain’t she the prettiest little lady chair you’ve ever laid your eyes upon? I know she is the prettiest little lady chair my eyes have ever had the privilege to be laid upon. And a cinch to assemble, too.

So basically, I just wanted you to know: I’m in love!

Actually, no, that’s silly. I am in love, just not with a chair. I really like this chair, and I like the fact that we bought it together. But “in love” is a bit much for an inanimate object to be on the receiving end of. For me. Not judging.

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