Martyr

I need just one more chair in the living room of the thimble we live in. The cats have taken over the couch (they are looooong cats), the coats have taken over the white chair, and Faeron has taken over the fuzzy orange chair.

I don't try to move the pets or the coats.

"Faeron, do you want to sit at your Dora table and color?"

"I am trrrrying to read this, mama," says the four year old who cannot read with an impatient sigh while she turns the page of the sales brochure we recieved in the mail.

In Faeron's little green Dora chair, my eyes are just level with the keyboard, so most of what I wanted to blog about just isn't worth the trouble tonight.