Life As a Chair

The day a woman bought me at the store, I was the happiest chair on earth. Life as a chair was great. I obtained the most beautiful cushion — one with big, pink and yellow roses — which lie on top of me. The house I lived in had wallpaper complementing my colors perfectly with other chairs at the table that looked just like me. They were really nice. Children in this house were little and easy to hold up. Luckily, I had had the youngest little boy who felt about 30 pounds! At that point in my life, I felt invincible! One day, about 14 years later, things went downhill. The woman who purchased me did some redecorating and took off my cushion. It made me feel all naked and insecure! The youngest child had been so spoiled by his rich mother that she fed him much more than he needed to be. He went from 30 pounds to 300 pounds! Then one day, he plopped right onto me and broke all my legs. The large man started crying. I was the one with the broken legs, so why was he crying about it? The mom picked up every piece of me and put me into the smelly garbage. I had gone from the top of the world to the bottom.